In a Different World
by Lyra Verse
Summary: Rick never found Carl and Lori. He's hurting and darker than ever. Michonne has managed to protect Mike and Andre, but she has sacrificed being with them in the process. Rick is leader of the ASZ and Michonne is a resident of The Kingdom. The two communities have to work together to face common enemies. So they come up with a tried but true show of loyalty. A marital union.
1. Chapter 1

\- New fic. My brain wouldn't allow me to continue with 'Loss and Gain' until I started this one out as well because this story idea has just been banging around in my brain. Get ready to be introduced to a Rick that you guys may not recognize. Hope you like. Review and tell me what you think. -

 **Chapter One: What Used to Be**

The darkness of the room surrounded Rick as he laid in bed, his mind empty save of shadows. Shadows that followed him around wherever he went...whatever he was doing. He had committed himself to trying to forget. To forget her – his wife. To forget him – his son. And he succeeded...Somewhat.

In the daytime hours, he had managed to block their memories by keeping himself busy. It was a good day when he felt numb. When he didn't feel.

But things were difficult in the night. There was nothing to distract him. Nothing but the darkness that collected every image of the times past. The happy times when he would wake up every Sunday morning to the smell of bad pancakes. His wife had never been good at making them. He missed the way her hair fell over and around her shoulders as she moved around in the kitchen.

And he would never be able to forget his son, Carl's, blue eyes, smiling knowingly at him – knowing that they were both going to force themselves to swallow the unappetizing food and say they liked it because they knew it would make her happy.

"Lori..." Rick whispered into the darkness.

He closed his eyes, willing it away. The memories that threatened to come and bear down on him. He didn't want them. He didn't want to feel.

He needed a distraction.

He turned over to wrap his arm around the blonde woman by his side, waking her from her sleep. She stirred, her skin warm and naked against his.

He had found the only distraction in the darkness to be the distraction of another human being. To feel soft, warm skin beneath his hands. Skin that he could imagine to be hers.

He had lost himself in this world long ago. This world for the dead. He didn't know what kept him going anymore. For a year, it had been the thought of finding them again. His family. But slowly, that hope was leaving him. Now he wasn't sure if there was any hope left. He didn't know why he kept going. Maybe it was pure bullheadedness.

He pushed his hardness into the woman he chose to share tonight with. Jessie Anderson. He had had her many times before. It was easy with her. She was open with him. Willing. Sometimes even eager. There was a sense of bleakness and hopelessness with the other women that he didn't quite like. But they were sufficient when he wanted a taste for something different.

"Ah..." Jessie moaned softly as Rick entered her spot of pleasure from behind. His hand came around to stimulate her bud of nerves. "Ohh," she moaned again.

She hadn't expected to be woken up to his attentions once again. She thought he had worn himself out in the hours before. Her plan after the first act had been to slip out in the middle of the night when Rick had fallen asleep to find her way back to her husband's bed. She had thought maybe he wouldn't need to know that Rick had chosen her again. Maybe she could escape his anger. But that plan was out the window. She had fallen asleep. Her husband, Pete, was probably aware of her absence by now.

She pressed her face into her pillow to muffle her moans as Rick's thrusts and his ministrations against her center grew more insistent.

She staved off her moans for a few moments more as Rick brought himself to the peak of his sexual act. Knowing that he was close, she allowed her own body to succumb to the pleasure and soon waves of satisfaction was sending shocks through her body.

Rick withdrew quickly and Jessie felt his proof of release fall against her back.

She breathed deeply, Rick's own heavy breaths falling on her ears.

The first early morning rays of dawn began to creep into the room. Jessie closed her eyes, dreading leaving the bed. Dreading facing her husband. Dreading facing the day.

"...Rick?"

There was a moment of silence before Rick responded. "Hm?"

"...Can I stay here? With you?"

"No," Rick answered. He threw the covers back, sat up, and began to pull his clothes on. Daytime was coming. He was ready to forget.

Jessie sighed and sat up. This wasn't the first time she had asked so she wasn't particularly surprised by his answer. It was always the same. She was hoping it would change, though. She didn't know how much longer she could live the life she was living with her husband. She was...afraid.

Because Rick was the leader of their little community and because so many people owed him so much – he had control of everything. Nothing happened without his say-so. No one had anything he didn't allow them to have. And he could either allow someone to have everything. Or nothing.

It was months ago when Rick began to claim women for his own as well. Whether they were taken or not. It didn't matter. The boyfriends...husbands...couldn't do anything lest they wanted to risk being cut off from needed supplies, killed...Or worse. Exiled. No one wanted to be exiled. Not while the dead were roaming the Earth.

Not her husband. He wasn't willing to risk anything. Not for her.

"He hurts me," Jessie said. Admitting for the first time why she didn't want to go back to her husband. "My husband. He hurts me."

Rick finished pulling on his boxers, snapping the band around his waist. He looked over his shoulder at the woman behind him. She was sitting up and looking at him with wide eyes. As if he could really help her. As if he had all the answers.

"You want me to kill him?" Rick asked.

Jessie's eyes widened further. She thought of her kids, Ron and Sam. Sam was young...ten years old...Ron was a teenager. They needed their father. No matter how horrible he was. "No," she said. "No."

"Then I can't help you," Rick responded shortly. "Leave."

Jessie's heart clenched with hopelessness and fear. No matter how ruthless or dangerous Rick was when he was angry, he never hurt her. That's more than she could say for her husband. "...Please..." she whispered again softly. Afraid to continue asking for something he had already refused but also needing to get out from under Pete's thumb. There was something inside of her that said it was now or never.

Rick turned over his shoulder with an irritated sigh. When he was met with her wide, fearful eyes, the muscles in his jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth. This was an unwanted and petty problem that he didn't want to deal with. Not when real problems were out there...like this new threat from a group that called themselves The Saviors and rumors of people walking around wearing walker-skin masks to blend into the world out there. "Death or exile?" he asked the woman. "Otherwise it's nothin' at all."

He sat and stared at her with his head cocked, deceptively patient. "I-" Jessie stammered. "I-I don't want him to di-"

"Death or exile."

"The kids-"

" _Death_ or _exile_."

When he still didn't get an answer, he got up off of the bed, ready to move on to some other order of business.

"Wait!" Jessie called.

Rick paused in his tracks, waiting for her decision.

Her voice barely rose above a whisper when she decided. "D-death..."

Rick rubbed the pads of his fingers together, wondering how he would go about killing the town doctor, and then he nodded. Might as well keep things simple and direct.

He showed up at the Andersons' residence a few minutes later with Jessie a frightened Jessie at his heels. When he knocked and the door was opened to him by a haggard-looking Pete with bloodshot eyes, he surmised that the man had been hitting the bottle throughout the night.

Pete's eyes went from Rick to his wife and his lip curled. But he didn't dare to say anything. He only opened the door wider and reached out for his wife's arm to pull her inside. But Rick stepped in front of him, stopping the action. Pete turned a glare to the man and then cast his eyes downward. "What is it?" Pete slurred. "You need me to get on duty?"

Rick rolled his eyes. Maybe he should have done this a long time ago. It would only be doing the community a favor. No one needed a drunk doctor. He pulled his Cold out of his holster and held it loosely at his side. Pete's eyes went to it curiously and then back up to Rick's face.

Rick was about to hoist the weapon when a small pair of feet came down the stairs and into view. Jessie's youngest son Sam emerged rubbing sleep from his eyes. The pajamas he wore almost engulfed his body. "Mom?" he asked, as his eyes fell on Jessie.

A wince of annoyance shot across Rick's face. He hated complications. "Take the boy somewhere else," he growled to Jessie.

"Sam, get in the closet, sweetheart," Jessie said, her voice shaky. "Like mama showed you."

Sam blinked at his mother curiously and looked between her, his father, and Rick. He knew that getting in the closet meant something bad was about to happen. He turned, obeying his mother's words and went towards the closet. Rick glanced at Jessie questioningly. When he said 'take the kid somewhere else,' he had meant away from the house.

"What's going on?" Pete asked.

Rick tore his eyes away from Jessie as Pete's question interrupted his silent questioning of her decision.

Rick studied Pete for a moment. The man's clothes were hanging off of him, and he looked like he would fall over. "Pete," Rick started. "Would you say that Doctor McCloyd has become efficient at her job? Has she improved since we first brought her in?"

Pete thought for a moment. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah. She's a good doctor. She can do anything I can do; maybe even better..."

Rick scowled when the man offered up a small, cheesy smile. Even though he obviously was feeling rage. Even though he obviously wanted to kill the two people on his doorstep. His faux niceties were an irritation. Rick had never liked that about the other man. "Good," Rick said, responding to the man's observations about their other resident doctor, Denise McCloyd. "Because we'll be needing her services a lot more around here."

"Why?" Pete asked. "What do yo-?"

A bullet to the brain cut Pete's question off, the shot ringing through the early morning emptiness of the streets in Rick's community. A place he had named the Alexandria Safe Zone. Jessie gave a short scream as the gun went off. She had been preparing herself for it, but it still felt...shocking. She watched as blood eased out of Pete's wound and onto the floor of what used to be her home. But it hadn't been her home for a long time. She leaned against the door jamb of the house and caught her breath.

"There's been a job opening..." Rick said, in response to Pete's question. He holstered his weapon, looked toward the closet he knew Sam to be in and looked back to Jessie. "I'll have someone come and collect his body," he said, rubbing the pads of his finger together. He glanced away when her blue eyes came back to his face. "You pull things together. I'll find someone else to occupy my time in the meantime."

He walked off as people began to come out of their houses, wondering what the noise had been about.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"You coming back to Ezekiel's, Michonne?" Matthew asked as Michonne dismounted her horse.

She had just gotten back from a visit at The Hilltop, a community about two days' travel from where they were, and she was feeling exhausted. They had received bad news.

Ever since she had found this community with her family, she had been happy to finally have a place to settle down in after four months of surviving out there with just those things. It was almost like they had found normalcy again, and they had been living at this place for nine months now. They had a trade system with The Hilltop wherein they supplied weapons and in return, The Hilltop supplied food. But they had just come to find out that The Hilltop was having to cut and ration their food supplies due to some new group running around, calling themselves The Saviors.

The Saviors were using force and intimidation to take half the food supplies from The Hilltop without trading anything in return. So basically they were bullies taking someone else's lunch money. And apparently weapons didn't mean anything if there were no fighters or soldiers to wield them. Michonne knew that the residents of The Hilltop were more peaceful than the warlike soldiers here at The Kingdom, but she thought at least their numbers would give them an advantage on anyone who tried to forcefully breach their borders. But apparently The Saviors had quite a large number of people too, and the Hilltop was just not prepared to fight anyone. They were used to living in peace.

And since The Hilltop had to cut their rations, they had to cut their trading supply to The Kingdom. Not only that, but there was another community that The Hilltop was trading with that the people of The Kingdom didn't even know about. The Alexandria Safe Zone. Michonne sighed. It was a lot of news to take in, and she didn't particularly want to be there when Ezekiel heard of it.

"You go on," Michonne said to Matthew. "I'm going to go see Mike."

Matthew looked down at her with compassion on his face. "You two back on speaking terms again?"

"No," Michonne said, leading her horse away. "But I have a right to see my son."

As Matthew went to report to Ezekiel, Michonne led her horse to the stable and then made her way to the house that used to be her home. Three knocks on the door prompted Mike to open it. His face fell noticeably when he saw who was there, and he frowned.

"What are you doing here?" Mike asked. Andre, Michonne's four-year-old son was hoisted in his arm.

"Mom!" the small boy said, reaching out for her.

Michonne smiled and stared at her son. She wanted to take him into her arms, but she knew Mike would fight her on that and she understood why. "I came to see Andre," Michonne said. She pushed her hands into the back pockets of her jeans to restrain herself from reaching out to touch him. The white button-up she wore – made sleeveless because she had to tear one off to make a makeshift bandage for a cut on her arm and then she tore the other sleeve off to match – stretched taut across her skin. "Can I come in?"

Mike looked her up and down. The sword she had attached to herself like an appendage since all of this started was slung across her back. Speckles of blood marred her shirt in places and her jeans were torn and dirty. He wondered what she had gotten into to look so battered, but then he didn't care. It was none of his business. She had made it clear that this family didn't mean anything to her a long time ago. "No," he said. "You've seen him. Now you can go." He stepped back to close the door in her face, but she blocked it with her hand.

"Look. Mike..." she said, staring into his scowling face. "I know you feel like I turned my back on you and Dre, but-"

"No, I don't think. You _did_. You turned your back on us." Michonne shook her head. "We're safe now, Michonne! _Safe_! You don't have to be out there risking your life against those things! You said you would stop fighting once we found a place like this, but you just keep on! Like you're running away. Like you don't wanna be here with your family."

"I _do_ wanna be here, Mike. I do! It's because of you and Dre that I'm out there every day! Don't you see that?"

"You don't have to be-"

"You don't know that! You don't know that we're safe! You act like you don't remember what it was like! People can't be trusted anymore! They're worse than those dead things! _I_ got us here! I did! I led us to this place! I'm _doing_ this to keep Andre safe!"

Mike nodded, pain and anger on his face. "Yeah. There you go again. I get it, Michonne. I get it. You got us here. Fine. I didn't do anything. I'm useless. You're the survivor. We'd be dead if it weren't for you; I know that-"

"That's not what I'm saying-"

"Isn't it?"

Michonne took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to keep herself together so that she could say the right words. "I'm not," she said, calmer. "I just-" Her eyes looked longingly at Andre. "It's not fair that you're keeping me from him," she finished simply.

"I"m not keeping you from him," Mike said. "If you really wanted to be with him, we both know there's nothing I could do to stop you." He stared into Michonne's eyes. "No. You're not with Andre because you don't _want_ to be with Andre." Michonne's eyes flew to Andre fearfully. How could he say something like that when their son was right there? Her eyes filled with tears and she shook her head, silently communicating to Andre that it wasn't true even though she wasn't sure if he fully even understood what was going on in that moment. "You know, as much as I do, Michonne," Mike continued. "That you've changed since this all started. You know you've become just as monstrous as those people out there and you're doing what's good for this family...by staying away."

He let that land with Michonne and then stepped back into the house, closing the door in her face.

Michonne fought back her tears before she turned on her heel and made her way back to the mansion that Ezekiel occupied. He called it his castle. And he called himself the king.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"The right amount of food supplies haven't been coming because they can't supply us properly anymore," Matthew was saying as Michonne walked into the expansive living room of the mansion. A staircase winded up to rooms on the second floor that housed some of Ezekiel's most trusted advisers. She was one of them. She had moved in here when things had ended with Mike seven months ago.

The large living room was practically empty. There was only a long varnished table settled lengthwise across the marble flooring and Ezekiel sat behind it. Right in the center. In a high-back, ornate chair. Filling the rest of the room were two black couches sitting facing each other and an armchair sat adjacent to them both – the set up was that of a 'u' shape, with the armchair facing the table and Ezekiel towards the back of the room. Michonne sat in that armchair. Her entrance wasn't acknowledged due to the business being discussed at hand.

"And you said this other place they've been supplying is called Alexandria Safe Zone?" Ezekiel asked.

Ezekiel was an older man with gray dreads that fell past his shoulders. But he was well-built. And despite his obsession with The Middle Ages and his affinity to tell corny jokes, he was serious and a good leader.

"Yeah," Matthew said. He was kneeling on the floor on one knee as if he was addressing a real king.

"Why am I just now hearing about this place?" Ezekiel asked. "Why did they keep it from us?"

"I don't know," Matthew said. "They said it just never came up."

Ezekiel chortled. "I never fully liked that weasel of a man, Gregory." Gregory was the name of the leader of Hilltop. Michonne couldn't say she liked him much either. He was vain and self-absorbed. It was no wonder his community was in the predicament it was in. He would bend over backwards for these Saviors in order to keep the illusion of splendor and perfection that he had going there. His people probably didn't even know about the threat. They were probably just going about their lives clueless and ignorant of any danger.

Michonne pulled one leg up into the chair and continued to listen to what Ezekiel would be doing about this new problem.

"Well, we can't grow very many crops," Ezekiel said. "We don't have the land for it. And we can't just attack The Hilltop and take their things – we're not those type of people. Even though...since they're letting themselves get pushed around, it's clear that...we can take 'em." He smiled and winked at Michonne. She smiled back.

"What do _you_ suggest we do, Princess?" He directed the question toward Michonne.

She smiled and stood up, walking to the middle of the room where Matthew was. She had been expecting him to ask her what she thought. He always did. Michonne usually wasn't one to bask in favoritism, but she enjoyed the value that Ezekiel placed on her opinions. She and her father had never been close in the old world, so she enjoyed and appreciated the attention she got from Ezekiel. He was a genteel father figure in her life.

"Kneel before me," Ezekiel said, gesturing towards where she stood.

Michonne glanced over at Matthew, who was still kneeling with his head bowed. "Yeah, I'm not doing that," she said.

Ezekiel laughed. He hadn't expected her to do so. She never did. "So what do you think?" he asked. "How should we handle this unexpected turn of events?"

"Well..." Michonne said. "First...I think we need to visit this Alexandria Safe Zone."

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Rick Grimes had a group of people that were loyal to him to a fault. These were people who had helped him to build the ASZ up to the community it was today. Some of these people were Glenn Rhee and his wife Maggie Greene, Carol, Sasha and her brother Tyreese, Abraham, Daryl Dixon, Rosita, and Tara. They were his inner circle. He had saved many of their lives and gotten them out of many sticky situations. Which had led them to this place and his vision of rebuilding society. There had been hiccups along the way. Losses. An attack from a madman who called himself the Governor. But Rick had kept fighting. Kept going strong. The man was a natural-born leader.

But someone had to talk to him...

Glenn and Abraham stared down at the body in the Andersons' doorway. So did a lot of other people. Maggie tried to shoo them away but the people were slow moving as they stared down at Rick's handiwork.

"...Can't say I didn't see this comin'..." Abraham said, his thumbs tucked into his belt buckle.

Glenn looked up at Abraham with a perplexed expression. "You _knew_ that Rick was going to start shooting doctors in their doorways?"

"No," Abraham said. "But you gotta admit...the man's been goin' off the deep end for a while now." He went towards Pete's feet and gestured toward the man's head, indicating that Glenn should take that end. Glenn did so. They hoisted him up with grunts and walked him quickly towards the gurney that Rosita and Dr. McCloyd had brought out. They laid him down on it. "Every day that goes by without him findin' his wife and kid again. I think he's given up. So he just doesn't give a shit anymore."

"He gives a shit," Glenn said, lifting the gurney with Abraham and walking it towards a plot of land where they could dig a grave. "If he didn't, he wouldn't protect this place as hard as he does."

"Well, this place is all he's got left..." Abraham said. "If he stops to think, he would really drive himself crazy. So he doesn't. He keeps goin' so that he doesn't have to."

"You think he needs a break?" Glenn asked.

"I can't answer that for him. But people are starting to lose respect for him as a leader. They're startin' to fear him. This whole deal he's got goin' with the women, it's..." Abraham shook his head.

Glenn said. Yeah, that. He couldn't believe it when word started getting around that Rick Grimes was coercing women into his bed and threatening to kill or exile anyone who disagreed. It didn't seem like Rick. But then again...Abraham was right. Rick had been becoming darker, more brutal, deadlier, the longer that he went on without knowing what happened to his family. He wasn't sure what Rick was capable of anymore.

"I'm starting to hear talk of a rebellion..." Abraham said quietly. Secretively. Glenn looked up at him, surprised.

"What?!" Glenn asked, his eyes wide. They sat the gurney down on an empty plot of land.

"And the way things are goin'...I'm startin' to think maybe I should join 'em..."

Glenn stared, wide-eyed, at Abraham. One of the men who _used_ to be one of Rick's most loyal people.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

 **3 Days Later**

Rick stared at the five men in front of him who had requested an audience with him. And that had been the exact words they'd used. "We'd like to request an audience with the ruler here."

After many questions and warnings, Rick had allowed them through the gate – making all but one leave their weapons and horses outside. Speaking of weapons – they all had swords. Rick stared at the one he had allowed to stay at the waist of one of the men. He was a good-looking African American man, and he said his name was Matthew.

"So what are you here for?" Rick asked. They stood right inside the gate. Just in case they were trouble and Rick needed one of his snipers to take the men out. They could focus on them standing there. "We're having a sudden shortage in our supply of food so we're gonna have to think about taking anymore new people in at the moment."

"Oh no," Matthew said. "We don't wanna be taken in. We have our own...safe place."

Rick scrunched his brow, curious about this other place. But he didn't ask. He allowed the other man to continue.

"We came because we've been sharing from the same feeding bowl and we didn't even know it..."

Rick squinted at him.

"I'm guessing your food shortage has to do with Hilltop?" Matthew asked.

Rick stared at the man, his attention and interest gained. "You know about Hilltop?"

"We were getting food supplies from them as well."

Rick's brow scrunched. This was the first he was hearing of them. "What were you trading in return?" he asked.

"Weapons," Matthew answered, tapping his sword. "We have a blacksmith. And a man who casts bullets."

Rick's eyebrows rose. "How many people?" he asked. He was curious about it, just in case these men turned out to be a threat.

"Enough," Matthew answered. "What did you trade for the food?"

Rick hesitated in answering, weighing his options. Mapping out the smartest course of action. "...Medicine," he finally answered.

Matthew turned to the men in his party; he seemed to be impressed. "Medicine..." he said, turning back around. "...We could use that."

Rick tapped his finger against the Colt hanging at his side. He was used to people just trying to take what he had worked to get at this point. He shifted on his feet. "So why has the Hilltop suddenly cut off food supply?" Rick asked.

"They've run into trouble with a certain group that calls themselves the Saviors."

A jolt of recognition flashed across Rick's face.

"I see you've heard of them," Matthew continued. "Well, good...my men and I were sent here to offer you a proposition."

"Sent by who?" Rick asked.

"You'll know all of that in time. If you agree to work with us."

Rick squinted suspiciously. "How?"

"Since we both want our feeding bowl back...our ruler has offered you the request of joining in an alliance with us against the Saviors. If we can convince Hilltop to join us as well, we should be able to beat them no problem."

Rick continued to stare suspiciously at the other man. "...How do I know you're not working with the Saviors? That this isn't a trap? That you're not just trying to find out about us then betray us the first chance you get?" He cocked his head to the side, his hand still on his weapon.

"We won't," Matthew said calmly. "We're not those kind of people." Rick continued to stare at him, his words obviously not enough. Matthew smirked; the man was very on guard and suspicious. "But I understand how you can have your doubts," Matthew said. "The world has become a cruel place and we all have to be careful." His eyes swept the Alexandria Safe Zone. "But I can see you have a good place here. And it would be a waste if two self-sufficient communities couldn't come to work together due to suspicions and doubts. That's how civilizations are built, isn't it?"

"So to gain your cooperation, my ruler was prepared to sweeten the deal. He's quite a fan of ancient customs and he would really like your trust in this matter. So to garner peaceful relations, he is willing to offer up his most trusted female adviser to you...in marriage."

\- What?! Marriage is part of the deal?! Michonne did NOT agree to this; she just said check the place out, go meet the guy, not to offer her up as a peace treaty. Plus, isn't she already involved with someone?! Sort of?! We get Michonne's reaction in the next chapter. And Rick's. Because...we all know he's kind of riding the crazy train now. But who knows...maybe Michonne can be his new plaything. At risk to his own life of course. :) -


	2. Chapter 2

Recap of Previous Chapter: Rick uses women as a distraction from thoughts of his past life. One of those women is Jessie Anderson. She was getting abused by her husband, Pete, and asked Rick for help. He gave her two options: 'death or exile' for her husband. She chose death. Rick obliged.

Michonne resides at The Kingdom. She has become distant from her family because she spends so much time going outside of the safe community to protect everyone. She currently stays with Ezekiel and acts as his number one adviser.

The Kingdom and the Alexandria Safe Zone both depend on The Hilltop for food supplies, but The Hilltop has become the target of a nefarious group called The Saviors so they can no longer dole out the amount of rations they usually do. In an attempt to find a solution to this problem, Ezekiel – the leader of The Kingdom - reached out to Rick Grimes – the leader of Alexandria Safe Zone, hoping that the two communites could form an alliance. Predicting that the leader of the other community wouldn't just trust him so easily, Ezekiel added something else to the deal. He would offer up his number one female adviser in marriage to the cautious leader as a show of good faith.

 **Chapter Two: Bride-to-be**

"I'm not going to do that," Michonne said, her arms crossed over her chest.

She was in Ezekiel's residence and had just been informed about her expected role in the treaty between Alexandria Safe Zone and The Kingdom. Matthew stood at her side, reporting to the man in charge and Ezekiel stared at Michonne congenially.

"Come now, Michonne," Ezekiel chided. "Think about this..."

"I don't need to," Michonne replied. "My family is here and this is my home. I don't even know this man. I'm not going to be used as some pawn in a political power play."

Ezekiel ticked his head to the side. "The fact that you refer to this as a 'power play' tells me that you suspect this is about more than a few food supplies. Why don't you tell me what you think this is about."

Michonne released a heavy breath through her nostrils. "It's not going to stop at just overtaking The Saviors and getting our food supply back," Michonne said. "You want to ally yourself to this new community so that we'll have enough people to challenge The Hilltop as well. You want to put someone else in charge over there."

Matthew looked shocked as if this were the first time he was hearing about anything like this. And it probably was. "But...we've always been on good terms with Hilltop," Matthew said to Ezekiel.

Ezekiel smiled widely, his eyes glittering as he looked at Michonne. He spread his hands in a supplicating manner and shrugged. To Matthew he said, "It's nothing personal." Her turned back to Michonne. "Is it, dear? You understand why I would do something like that, don't you?"

Michonne's brows were deeply furrowed. She didn't like being offered to someone like an object, but she did understand why Ezekiel was eager to form this alliance. She rolled her eyes and nodded. "We have forty people here," she stated. "The Hilltop has eighty. Matthew, you said Alexandria Safe Zone seemed to have upwards of sixty. From what we've heard about The Saviors, they seem to have hundreds. That makes us the most disadvantageous in terms of population."

"We wouldn't be able to fight The Saviors if they came our way. And The Hilltop refuses to fight so we wouldn't have their backing. With Alexandria Safe Zone on our side, we'd have a chance. They need supplies from The Hilltop as well so we have a common enemy."

"But why take the Hilltop as well?" Matthew asked.

"Because he's weak," Michonne said. "This situation proves it. We need someone we can count on when trouble comes knocking at either one of our doors. We can't have someone who will just roll over and accept the punches."

"But there are innocent people at the Hilltop," Matthew continued. "We can't hurt them."

"We don't have to," Michonne replied. "We won't have to go to war to take the Hilltop. If we can just get Gregory alone, and if we sees we have Alexandria Safe Zone on our side as well, he will just surrender if we simply threaten him. He won't risk his life for anything. Not even his community."

Ezekiel clapped and laughter bubbled from his lips once Michonne finished. She had basically just spoken all of his plans and reasoning without him having to tell her anything. "See?" he said with a big smile on his face as he looked at Michonne. "This is why it has to be you that goes over to ASZ. You're a leader in your own right!"

"I'm not getting married," Michonne repeated, her face still serious. "We can ally ourselves through a simple meeting and a handshake; it doesn't have to go so far."

Ezekiel sighed. "Matthew?" he said, turning to the other man. "Did this Rick Grimes seem willing to form an alliance through a simple meeting?"

"No, sir, he did not," Matthew replied. "He seemed overly cautious and careful. It would take a lot to get him to actually trust us."

"Can _he_ be trusted?" Michonne asked. "Why do we think this man is any better than Gregory?"

"Well," Matthew said with a shrug. "He's a fighter. His community is well-guarded; I almost didn't make it inside. So he's already got Gregory beat on that front."

"And if we had someone on the inside," Ezekiel prodded. "We could see just how _much_ he could be trusted and how far we want this treaty to go."

Michonne ignored Ezekiel and kept her focus on Matthew. "And what did _he_ say when you put marriage on the table?"

"He said no," Matthew said, glancing at Ezekiel. "He said that there's no way he can know how valuable this woman is to us. He said she might just be some random civilian we don't care anything about, meaning the treaty wouldn't mean anything."

Ezekiel smiled. "He really is a cautious man..."

He turned to Michonne, who was now standing with her hands on her hips. Her expression was smug. With Rick Grimes' refusal, she thought she was home free. "Well," Ezekiel said. "We'll just have to arrange a meeting between the two of you, won't we?"

Michonne's smug expression fell. "I'm not marrying him," she said again, before turning on her heel and leaving the room. Ezekiel chuckled and shook his head. He hoped she would change her mind.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

A small patch of land with a solitary swing, a sandbox, and a slide was what many of the residents of The Kingdom considered a proper park. The six aged ten and under kids of The Kingdom enjoyed it so the parents did as well.

After leaving Ezekiel's place, Michonne made her way there. She knew Mike sometimes brought Andre there, and she was satisfied when she saw that today was one of those days.

Andre was sitting in the sandbox, letting grains of sand fall between his fingers and coat his legs in the cool grit.

Michonne smiled and walked nearer, stopping next to Mike's side. He was leaning against a nearby tree and watching Andre play. He noticed when Michonne approached, but he didn't immediately greet her.

"Looks like he's enjoying himself..." Michonne said.

"...He is," Mike said with a nod. "He's really starting to adjust to life without his mother." Mike paused. "We both are."

A pang of pain shot through Michonne's heart. She knew he was just saying that to hurt her. It was quite successful, but she didn't respond to it.

"...I wanted to talk to you," she said.

"About what?"

"Ezekiel learned about a new community nearby."

"Are they dangerous?"

"No, we don't think so. We're trying to form an alliance with them."

Mike turned to her. "Let me guess. You have to go talk to them to get this alliance settled. You'll be gone maybe three weeks. Four weeks?" A derisive smile crossed his face. "Well guess what, Michonne. I don't care. You don't have to report to me about how long you're gonna be gone anymore. I've stopped expecting you to stay around anyway."

Michonne's brows furrowed. She could no longer ignore his digs at her. Not when he was making it seem that all of this was her fault. "You _wanted_ me gone," she said fiercely. "Didn't you?"

Mike turned away from her again. "Just tell me why you came here."

Michonne sighed. "I want to see Andre," she said. "Before I go."

"I think it's best if you just catch up with him again when you come back. You're only gonna upset him if you go and talk to him just to say goodbye again."

"...I don't know if I'll be able to come back for a while," Michonne said.

Mike froze and then he turned over his shoulder to look at Michonne. "What are you talking about? Aren't you the one who always says 'I always come back?' That's what you tell Andre."

Michonne nodded. "I usually do," she said. "But I don't know if I can this time."

"Why not?"

"To ensure an alliance right from the start..." Michonne took a deep breath and continued. "Ezekiel wants me to marry this other guy. The leader of this new community I told you about."

There was a long, pregnant pause. Michonne could feel the tension in the atmosphere. She forced herself to keep holding Mike's gaze. It flashed anger as he turned to face her fully. "...What?" he asked.

"I'm fighting it, but...an alliance with these people is important..."

"So that's it. You're just going to marry some stranger."

"I don't want to-"

"Wow...if I had any delusions about what this family meant to you..."

"Andre means _everything_ to me."

"But I don't."

"What _are_ we, Mike? I don't even know what we are. We haven't been together in a long time!"

"And whose fault is that?!"

"Mike-"

Michonne stepped back in shock when Mike turned around and struck his fist, hard, against the trunk of the tree behind him. "You know what?" he said, turning back around to face her. "You go ahead and do whatever the hell you want to do. That's all you do anyway. Go talk to Andre. Say your goodbyes. But don't expect to come lookin' for him at _all_ after this. You go off to that other community, you stay away from this family forever. You're not a part of it anymore."

Mike stormed away, caressing his bruised knuckles.

Michonne shook her head despondently and smoothed her brow with her hand. She didn't know how things had gotten to be so bad between them. It had happened slowly and then all at once.

With heavy steps, Michonne walked over to her son in the sandbox. When he looked up to see who was visiting him, his face split into a smile. "Momma!"

"Hey, Andre," she said, scooping him up into her arms when he held out his arms to her.

"Oof!" she said. "You've gotten heavy! What has your daddy been feeding you, hmm? Have you missed mama?"

"Yeah," Andre said, clinging his arms around Michonne's neck.

Michonne pushed back tears. "Do you hate mama for being away?"

"No."

"You know that even though I'm away from you, I'm always thinking about you, right?"

"Really?" Andre asked. He pulled away to see his mother's face.

"Yep. I don't go a second without thinking about you?"

"Not one second?"

"Not one second."

"You coming home?"

Sadness swelled in the pit of Michonne's stomach. "Come here. Let me talk to you." She stood Andre on his feet and kneeled before him so that they were face-to-face. She looked into his wide eyes and though she hated the time spent away from him, she couldn't regret all that she had done to keep him alive. To find a safe place for him. "I can't come back home just yet," she said quickly, like ripping off a bandaid. "And I may have to go somewhere for a while..."

"Where?" Andre asked, his eyes wide. Sadness shone in them.

"Somewhere away from here..."

"For how long?"

Michonne shrugged. It broke her heart to break Andre's. "I don't know," she said.

"Why do you have to go?"

"Because I'm trying to keep you safe," Michonne explained simply. "You are the most important thing in the world to me, and everything I do is for you. Do you understand?"

Andre nodded.

"So will you be okay while I'm gone?" Michonne asked.

Andre's face crumpled. "No," he said, tears coming suddenly. "I want to go with you."

Surprised at Andre's sudden tears, Michonne pulled him into a hug. "Shh," she said, patting his back consolingly. "Shh shh shh...I love you so much. Never doubt that, okay?"

She felt him nod, but she wished there was a way that she could stay with him.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

A week later, Michonne rode with Ezekiel and her guard to meet Rick Grimes. Her goal was to come away from the meeting with another refusal on both ends. Surely, an alliance could be made without such drastic measures.

They came to a halt in a clearing in the forest that separated both communities. It was a halfway point. Rick had decided the meeting place. Apparently he didn't trust them to step foot in his community again.

Michonne brought her horse to a stop beside Ezekiel's. Five men flanked them, bringing up the rear.

Michonne looked up into the surrounding trees, straining her eyes to see if there were people hidden there. She had a strange, foreboding feeling and that was never good. She would feel foolish if they were just walking into a trap.

"Are you sure we should have come out like this?" Michonne asked Ezekiel. This would be the third time she was asking him.

He looked over at her, a gentle smile on his lips. "Relax. Everything's going to be fine." He looked her over. "You look very nice today, by the way."

Michonne breathed an annoyed sigh. If Ezekiel weren't such a good leader, she'd think he was just an old fool. But past experiences and the way he led his community had given her much to respect and admire about the older man. Since he said relax...she tried to relax. But her eyes grazed the trees again. Just in case.

Her long dreadlocks grazed her back as she looked around. They were pulled up into a ponytail and she was dressed simply in a form-fitting black short-sleeve t-shirt and white pants that ran down to black boots. Her sword was slung across her back. Ezekiel had told her to dress up, but this was all she was willing to do as a way to show him that she still wasn't into this marriage.

They sat on their own in the clearing for a while until they heard the rustling of leaves. Michonne sat up straighter.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Rick traveled with Glenn, Abraham, Daryl, and three others to go and meet the people of The Kingdom. When he emerged into the clearing, his eyes took them all in. They landed especially on the woman sitting up front with who he assumed to be the leader.

He stopped in front of them and everyone else stopped along with him.

Michonne studied the leader of the group closely. The first thing she noticed was his eyes, not only were they piercing blue but they were also sharp and alert. He took note of every weapon that was in view before his horse even took three steps into the clearing. He also wore a halfway smirk; he seemed a little too relaxed to be meeting a group of strangers. Michonne scanned the trees again.

"So..." Rick said, his voice gruff. "We're here to talk peace. Is that it?"

Ezekiel smiled one of his genial smiles and slid from his horse to stand before Rick on his two feet. He offered his hand for a handshake. "We sure are."

Rick glanced at the two men to the right and left of him and then slid off of his horse as well. He met Ezekiel halfway and grasped his hand in a handshake. They measured each other for a second and then released their grips.

"I'm going to get straight to the point," Ezekiel said. "We have a common enemy. They're going to come knocking on both of our doors eventually. We need to ally ourselves so that we can beat them."

"I've never even heard of these...Saviors...'till now," Rick said. "How many people do they have?"

"More than you and me combined," Ezekiel replied.

"And I'm s'posed to just take your word for it?" Rick asked.

Ezekiel shrugged. "My word is a good one."

Rick studied the man for a moment and then his eyes slid to Michonne again. She was focused intently on the men who had come with him. He glanced over his shoulder and then back to her. If he didn't know any better, he would think that she was mentally gauging who she could take if things were to suddenly go south.

"I'm assuming this is my bride-to-be," Rick said, pointing his chin towards Michonne.

"You refused the offer," Michonne said, her eyes sliding to him. "I'm a free woman."

One side of Rick's lips lifted. He realized that she was making a joke, which was an amazing feat since her face spoke volumes about how much she didn't want to be in the situation she was in. He nodded and spoke to Ezekiel again. "How do I know that I can continue to trust you after you get what you want out of this deal?"

"The marriage would be a symbol of the unity of our two communities," Ezekiel said. "As long as one of ours is bound to you and marriage and lives in your community unharmed, I will not bring any ill will against you."

Michonne rolled her eyes. Rick saw her.

"You don't seem too thrilled by the idea," he said to her.

Michonne opened her mouth to respond, but a sound caught her ear. "Shh!" she demanded.

There was a few moments of silence and confused faces but then a slight buzz began to form and it could be heard by all. The noise steadily grew louder. It sounded like a hoarde of flies until the sound grew closer. Then it was distinct.

"Motorcycles," the man with the crossbow said from behind Rick.

The sound grew overwhelming until the source of the sound became visible. Ten motorcycles came out of the trees and into the clearing. Men manned each one and on a few, there were two men to a seat. They whooped and hollered and formed a circle around the gathering of people. The horses neighed and shifted their feet anxiously.

Michonne kept one hand on her horse's rein and held the handle of her sword with the other.

The motorcycles finally slowed down until they were circling the members of the two communities in a slow crawl. The loud revving of engines were produced intermittently as an attempted means to intimidate.

"Well..." one of the men said. He stopped his motorcycle and stepped off. A long length of chain was coiled over his shoulder. "This looks like a party. Why weren't we invited?"

Rick cocked his head to the side and stared at the man. His hand was on the weapon at his hip. "'Cause we don't know you," Rick answered.

The man gave a theatrical show of surprise. "You- you don't know us?" He looked around at the men behind him and laughed. "Did you hear that? There are people around here who don't know us." There were some chuckles from the other men.

Rick squinted around at all of the men. With all the leather and studs, they looked like wannabe thugs.

"Well, let me introduce myself," the man said to Rick. He held his hands out wide to indicate all of the men. "We...are The Saviors."

Rick nodded. So these were the people who were interfering with his food supply.

"And from the looks of all of you," the man said. "You're set up somewhere good. So...why don't you just tell us about it. And we can maybe...strike up some kind of deal to help you protect yourselves."

"Is that why you call yourselves The Saviors?" Rick asked with a squint and sarcasm dripping from his voice. "'Cause you go out of your way to reach out and help people?"

"Exactly!" the man said. "You scratch our backs, we scratch yours. And in this case...in exchange for our protection, we would want...your weapons."

"Well, we don't need protection," Rick said. "So you can just go on along and we'll take care of ourselves."

The man laughed again. "No see...you don't really have a choice. You either take our deal as we presented it. Or we just take your stuff. And you're on your own."

Michonne watched as Rick stared the man down. He didn't move an inch, but there was something that told her things were about to escalate. She tensed.

"Sasha!" Rick called. His voice reverberated off the trees and before anyone could react a bullet pierced the man who had been speaking right in the throat and he fell to the ground with an almost comical shocked expression frozen on his face.

Michonne was the first to recover from the shock of the moment. She pulled her sword from its sheath and jumped from her horse.

"Sniper!" One of The Saviors said, after they realized what had just happened.

Michonne ran quickly and beheaded two of the men before the group could fully recover.

The Saviors quickly began to fire shots. Michonne rolled behind the abandoned motorcycle of her victims and hid behind it.

Rick killed one man with a headshot and Daryl took out another with his crossbow. Sasha, the sniper, took out two more men from her unseen vantage point.

Ezekiel, who had gotten back onto his horse and now gripped a machete in his hand looked around for Michonne. He had seen her abandoned horse dart off into the forest. "Michonne!" he called as he galloped by and sliced one of The Savior's throats.

"I'm right here, Ezekiel," Michonne called. She ducked back down when a shot came her way again.

"Guys, let's go!" one of The Saviors called. They were retreating. A smart thing, too, since their numbers had dwindled dramatically since the start of the altercation.

The men turned and began to ride off into the woods again, kicking up dust as they went. A blonde with fire in his eyes, however, turned around one last time and aimed his gun at Rick Grimes. Michonne assumed he must not have seen her because he had stopped right next to her. She rushed him and brought the blade of her sword down on his wrist, severing his hand in one blow. His gun let out a wayward bullet, missing Rick by a long shot. Michonne finished him off by stabbing him in the heart before he could recover from the shock of losing his hand.

When Michonne pulled her sword free, and wiped the blade clean on the man's shirt, Rick nodded at her – aware that she had saved his life. Michonne nodded back.

Rick turned to survey the damage. They had obviously won the battle but there were two ASZ residents lying dead and two dead from The Kingdom as well – one injured. Rick blew a breath out through his nose and went to Ezekiel. He held his hand out to the other man. "We have a deal," he said.

"Allies?" Ezekiel questioned.

Rick nodded. "Allies."

Everyone began to gather their dead, lying them on the backs of horses to take them home and bury them and they began to rally up to go their separate ways. Michonne replaced her sword on her back and went over to Ezekiel to get on the horse behind him so that they could go home.

"Hey," Rick's gruff voice said, interrupting them. Michonne looked over at him and he nodded to her. "Where are you going?" He held his hand out to her and Michonne realized that he was accepting the whole deal, marriage and all. Her heart dropped to her stomach. "Unity of two communities," Rick said.

Ezekiel nodded. "Unity of two communities." He looked down at Michonne who was looking up at him. "Go over there," he said. "If anyone can hold all of us together, it's you."

It was all too sudden. Everything in Michonne's body was trying to keep her from moving, but she sighed and stalked over to the ASZ community. She stared at Rick's hand and then looked back over to the people of The Kingdom. The Kingdom had been the first real home she found after this whole hell on earth had started. It was where her family was now. Her son.

She tore her eyes away, swallowed her emotions, and took Rick's hand. He pulled her up onto the horse behind himself. She sighed and forced herself not to cry as he turned his horse around and took her away from everything she had known for nearly two years.


	3. Chapter 3

\- Thanks for the reviews guys! -

Chapter Three: This Is How It's Going To Be

Michonne stared out of the window of the kitchen in Rick's home. 'The Alexandria Safe Zone,' she thought. This was it.

Her eyes traveled down to the sink and counter top that she stood behind beneath the window. She ran her hands along the edge of it, imagining what it might be like to live here. She sighed. She couldn't. She couldn't imagine it.

She turned around to face the rest of the house, her sword still on her back. If it wouldn't have been there, she would not have felt the slight comfort that she did at being left in a strange place. She walked slowly around the room. The kitchen was large with modern decorations and furnishings that clashed with the traditional horse-and-carriage way of life outside.

Like everyone else, this community had adopted the old way of traveling as well, due to the expiration and lack of gasoline for motor vehicles.

A kitchen counter placed steadfastly in the middle of the room invited Michonne over to rest her elbows upon it as she finished examining the room.

She was waiting for something to happen. For someone to come in and tell her what she was expected to do here. Arriving in the night, she had been escorted to this very room and told to wait while everyone else had gone elsewhere to discuss business. She was sure that she would be a topic of discussion as well.

She pushed herself off of the counter, went to the living room, and peered out of the window there. Just as she suspected. She was being guarded. The muscled red-head and a man she didn't recognize were standing out there, armed and chatting. She was sure there was someone at the back too. She sighed, remembering what Matthew had said about the leader here. "Cautious, indeed," she muttered.

She had to admit, too, if it weren't for the guards outside, she would have been tempted to stroll right back out of those doors and past those gates. Right back to The Kingdom and back to her son.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"We'll have guards posted here and here. Twenty-four hours," Rick was saying as he patrolled a slightly out-of-the-way area of their encampment. "Preferably a good shot." It was out-of-the-way, overgrown, and just inside the gates of the compound. He would have someone stationed there just in case they were breached. If the guards here stayed hidden, any intruders would be caught by surprise if they happened to get through the gates.

Daryl gave a nod as he studied the area. Sounded like a good plan.

Rick turned to Glenn. "And tell the guards at the gate, if anyone approaches that gate before we talk tactics with The Kingdom...shoot them on sight."

"But what if it's someone seeking refuge?" Glenn asked.

"Then they're just unlucky," Rick replied with a hard stare.

Glenn started to speak up about being unsure if that was the right thing to do, but he held his tongue. Rick was obviously on edge about the threat of this new enemy, and he wouldn't be willing to listen to any other way to handle this if he thought it too risky for the people of this community.

"So," Daryl said, standing up from where he had been squatted, making sure none of the overgrown plants were poison ivy or anything. "This woman from The Kingdom..." he walked toward Rick and stopped just feet away from him. "You trust her?"

Rick shrugged. He had been asking himself that same question since pulling her onto his horse. "She saved my life," he said. "But we'll see."

Daryl nodded, knowing and understanding how suspicious Rick had grown to be. The man's suspicions had kept him alive so far – had kept all of them alive. "I saw her out there," Daryl said. "She's a capable fighter. Maybe she's some kind of spy or somethin'...workin' to bring us down from the inside..."

Rick squinted and looked somewhere past Daryl's shoulder as he thought about it. Those same thoughts had gone through his mind. But there was one thing he knew for sure. "That may be true," he said. "But right now...I also know it's true that we share a common enemy. They were just as surprised as us by the Saviors' attack. So even if we have to be cautious later...now's not the time. They won't try anything just yet."

Daryl and Glenn agreed silently. Then Glenn broke the silence. "...You really gonna marry her?"

A small smirk passed Daryl's lips. Leave it to Glenn to ask such a question.

Rick didn't answer. "Go report what I said to the guards at the gate," he instructed. He turned to Daryl. "You too. Go find men for guard duty here." The two men begrudgingly went off to do their duty. Rick watched them go and then headed back home to deal with the woman waiting in his home.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

When Rick walked into his house, he found Michonne standing in the living room with a scowl on her face and her arms folded across her chest. She had been waiting for him and apparently, she didn't like to be kept waiting. He met her eyes, then silently made his way to the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee.

Michonne followed him. She took the sword off of her back, hung it off of the back of her chair by its strap, and then sat down.

Rick took his time fixing his coffee as he liked it and then sat down in front of her.

They simply stared at each other for a while, Rick intermittently taking sips from his coffee cup.

He took her in. Her legs were spread, almost in a masculine fashion and her arms were still crossed across her chest. Her face still wore a scowl and her stare was hard. She did not want to be here.

Rick took another drink from his cup.

"Do you want some coffee?" he asked.

"No."

Michonne studied Rick just as he was studying her. His eyes were sharp and blue and they regarded her with guarded intrigue. Her eyes slid down to his hands. The one that wasn't clutching his cup was busy in its own way. He was rubbing the pads of his index finger and thumb together as if he was restless. It was a contradiction to the rest of his body language, which was telling her that he was calm and in control. Her eyes flashed up to his again.

"I don't plan on getting married," she said, getting straight to the point.

Rick lifted his eyebrows. "Why not? The offer came from your side."

"But not with my agreement."

Rick ran his thumb along the handle of his coffee cup. "But you came with me here. No one forced you."

"I didn't want there to be any misunderstandings about why I'm rejecting the offer. I wanted to make it clear to you. Face-to-face."

Rick chuckled and took another drink of his coffee. "So?" he said. Michonne stared at him. "Why are you rejecting?" he continued.

"The Kingdom is my home," Michonne replied. "I have family there."

"A sister? A brother?"

Michonne shook her head. "A son. And...someone..."

Rick's hand froze on his coffee cup and he stared over at her. He had become completely still. Even his fidgeting fingers. "Ezekiel promised me someone who was already taken?"

Michonne searched around for the right words to say. Her relationship with Mike was complicated. Too complicated to get into at the moment. Especially with a stranger. "...Sort of," she said.

Another dry chuckle escaped Rick's lips. He tapped his fingers against the table and was quiet for a while. It looked like he was deep in thought. Finally he spoke again. "The wedding should be public." Michonne's brows drew downward in deep confusion. "We will invite The Kingdom as well. A celebration. So that the two communities can get to know each other." His eyes met hers as he spoke. "We'll have to get someone that can organize the whole thing. That shouldn't be a problem...I know a couple of people here who would be perfect for throwing together a big event like this-"

"I'm _not_ getting married," Michonne said again. This time firmly, since he didn't seem to hear her the first time.

"You'll do as I say," Rick said, following her words immediately with his own. "And you'll do as Ezekiel says."

Michonne scoffed in disbelief and felt anger boil up inside her chest. She stood up from the table. "I'm a free agent," she said, her voice steady. "I don't do what anyone says."

Rick released his coffee cup and slid his hand to the edge of the table, ready to go for his gun if he needed to. "You'll risk your community for your pride?" he asked.

Michonne stared down at him defiantly, but she didn't respond to the question.

"Why are you even doing this?" she asked. "You don't want to be married to me. You don't even know me."

Rick shrugged. "Unity of two communities."

"Bullshit. We don't need a marriage to make this alliance work. I came here so that we could agree on a new deal. One that Ezekiel can agree with as well."

"This deal works fine," Rick said with another shrug of a shoulder.

"That's not how this works," Michonne said, placing her fingers on the table and making direct eye contact with Rick. " _I'm_ not fine with it. So the deal is off." She grabbed her sword from the back of her chair and slung it across her back before making her way towards the door.

"If you leave you'll be stopped by guards," Rick said from behind her, his words stopping her before she could reach the door. "You may be able to take care of a few of them, but you wouldn't be able to make it out of this community. I would have you locked up and placed in the one-room cell we have here. Then I would send ten of my men to The Kingdom. They'd welcome their new friends, not realizing that – as you said, the deal was off – so they'd be caught off guard when my men start to shoot them down."

"Who knows who would end up becoming a casualty?" Rick said. "Maybe Ezekiel...Your friend, Matthew...Maybe even your son and your...'someone'."

Michonne swung around with her fists clenched at her sides. Rick was standing with his hand on the handle of the gun at his hip. " _Or_ ," he said, his Southern drawl coming out clearly in the word. "You can go upstairs. Get ready to go through with the deal we've agreed on. And everyone can live on...happy and healthy. _That's_ how this works."

The anger in Michonne's chest grew white hot. She breathed heavily, wanting nothing more than to pierce Rick Grime's heart with her sword, but she knew that would be unwise. She held herself together and made her way toward the stairs. As she passed Rick, he stopped her with a low utterance.

"Sword."

Michonne stood still on the bottom step.

"I'll hold onto it until I know that you can behave yourself," Rick said.

Michonne clenched her teeth together and relinquished the sword. She felt more out of place and unguarded than ever.

She began to make her way upstairs again, and Rick watched her go. "First door on the left," he called. The muscles in her body coiled and he knew she wanted nothing more than to kill him. When she disappeared from sight and he heard the opening and slamming of a door, he knew that she would need breaking in. He absentmindedly fiddled with the wedding band on his finger. And he would enjoy doing it...

Michonne punched the door hard once she was inside the room relegated to her. She didn't even feel the pain in her knuckles because she was too consumed with anger. She vaguely remembered Mike having a similar reaction when she told him she was coming here. Had she really made him feel as upset as this? Because it wasn't a pleasant feeling.

Michonne made her way to the bed and sat down on it. Immediately trying to center her anger into something productive. Like figuring out all of the ways that she could get out of this mess.

She had believed that she would be able to reason with the man after seeing the way he handled the Saviors. He seemed like a good and capable leader out there. Had she been so wrong? Usually her gut was a good judge of character.

There was no way she could possibly live here after the way he threatened her community. Her family. How could she trust him to be a good ally to her community? But - she tried to think of all of her options – did she really have a choice?

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"He's losing it," Nicholas, a resident of the Alexandria Safe Zone was saying. "I'm afraid to even open my door these days for fear of winding up like Pete – shot down in his own home. Who even knows what he did to deserve that? Maybe he just looked at Rick wrong-"

"Well...I had heard disturbances in the Anderson home," Abraham said. It was a day after returning from The Kingdom, and he was looking around at the small group that had decided to help with basic construction today. They were taking lunch. "I think Dr. Anderson was beating on his wife."

" _Or_ Rick just wanted to get him out of the way so that he could bang his wife in peace," one man chortled from the side.

A quiet settled over the group. No one liked the way that Rick was treating the women in the community.

"He needs to be taken down," Tobin said. "Abraham, you would be a better leader."

"That man is what got us here today," Abraham said. "I'm not going to help anyone start a mutiny against him."

"What if he suddenly turned his attention to Rosita?" the man from the side said.

"He wouldn't do that," Abraham said quickly.

"Why not? 'Cause you two go way back? I didn't think he would send for Amelia either. I saved his life once when we ran across that crazy group of cannibals. And how did he repay me? He screwed my wife. Needless to say, I sent her packing."

"You and Amelia aren't together anymore, Riff?" Nicholas asked.

"Nope. We tried to make it work afterwards, but we just couldn't get past it. She kept going on about how Rick was still a good leader and he was just going through a rough time. All I could think was that I had allowed my wife to get violated so that we could get our same amount of rations. If I could go back, I'd rather starve. Or risk life out there with my wife. At least we'd still be together."

Abraham was quiet, feeling sympathy for the other man. "I'm sorry," he said. "But your wife was right...Rick is still a good leader. I don't know if I can turn my back on him just yet. I have to give him more of a chance."

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

When the sun was high in the sky, Rick visited Michonne's room with a tray of food. She was wearing the same clothes as she had worn the day before except her feet were bare. She was lounging on the bed and sat up when he came inside. Her hair that was previously in a ponytail cascaded loosely around her shoulders.

"You haven't left your room today," he said, placing the tray of food beside her on the bed. It held a sandwich and an apple.

"I didn't know I could," Michonne replied, ignoring the food.

Rick's eyes scanned the room and when he saw her sword leaning against the wall in the far corner, he laughed. "Let me rephrase that. You haven't left your room since I've been awake. I see you took your sword down from the mantle."

Michonne shrugged, keeping her eyes on Rick. "I took a shower too. Tried to use all the hot water," she sassed.

Rick nodded, his lips turning up into an unwilling smile. "You succeeded," he said. He pulled up a chair and sat down in front of her. "I didn't hear you," he continued, impressed against his will.

"I was surprised the door was left open," Michonne said. "I figured you'd lock it before you went to sleep."

"No need to," Rick replied. "You're a smart woman. You know how unwise killing me would be. What, with your community depending on us and all. You can't risk us turning against you before the Saviors are defeated."

"You keep talking about how much we need you, but you need us too. Ezekiel won't like it if he finds out you're holding me hostage."

"I'm not holding you hostage." Michonne frowned at him. "You're free to go wherever you want to. Inside this house and outside. You just can't leave the community. I'm just trying to hold you to your word. Ezekiel will understand that."

"I never gave my word."

"You gave your word when you took my hand and climbed up onto my horse." Michonne released an irritated breath. She felt like that would be the most regretted moment of her life from here on out.

"Will I have guards following me around if I decide to leave this house?"

"For a probationary period, yes."

Michonne rolled her eyes. But she didn't say anything. If it was true that she could explore the community, she find out more about this place as a whole and by extension...find out more about Rick Grimes as a leader. And if she found out more about him, she would know how best to handle him.

Rick studied Michonne silently for a moment. He twisted the wedding band on his finger.

"How old is your son?" he asked.

Michonne scowled. She did _not_ want to talk about her son with the man who was keeping her from him. But she knew she should choose her battles. "Four," she said.

He nodded, fiddling with the wedding band on his finger ever faster. Michonne noticed it.

"You were married before?" she asked.

Rick stopped spinning the ring. He looked down at it, as if he had forgotten it was there and was discovering it anew. He seemed to pull back into a memory for a moment before he was pulled back to the present and looked back up at Michonne. Pulling in a deep breath, he sat back against his seat. "I'll be the one to ask questions."

Michonne pressed her lips together in anger.

"You're not going to eat your sandwich?" he asked. "I made it personally for you."

Michonne looked down at it. After a moment, she picked it up and took a bite.

"You seem fairly complacent today," Rick said, slightly surprised.

"I'm hungry," Michonne replied dryly. "And like you, I know that you're not going to kill me just yet."

"Never, as long as you become my wife." Michonne took another bite of her sandwich. "We could be a good team, Michonne. Just like The Kingdom and ASZ can be a good team." Michonne continued to eat, not replying to him. "It's all up to you."

Michonne finished her sandwich and brushed the crumbs from her fingers. "...I still don't understand why marriage has to be part of the deal," she said. "I told you I have a family."

"No one gets to have a family in this world," Rick said shortly. "You should know that by now." He got up, retrieved her sword once again and then went for the door.

He stopped just before leaving and turned around. "Oh. I've set the wedding for a week from today. That's what I came to tell you. Be ready for it."

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Michonne tested out Rick's claim that she could go wherever she wanted in the community later that day. A well-muscled brunette man and the man who carried a crossbow followed her as her guards, but that it was it. It seemed that Rick had been telling the truth when he said she was free to go places. She was sure that the two guards would be reporting back her every move though. She sighed with annoyance as their steps trailed her own. She hated feeling like a prisoner.

"So, what's your name?" the man with the crossbow asked. He had a thick and heavy country accent. He was eating some kind of jerky and squinted from the sun as he looked at her.

Michonne kept walking and didn't reply. She had already had to go through answering unwanted questions from Rick; she wasn't going to go through the same thing with his henchmen.

"Cat got your tongue?" the man asked again as they continued to walk in silence. "Fine then. I was gonna offer you some jerky but it don't seem like you want none. It ain't like I wanna be followin' your skinny ass around all day either – the least we could do is make it enjoyable-"

A young man of about sixteen years bumped into Michonne as he rushed by, knocking her into the brunette guard. The young boy kept running without an apology.

"Hey, watch it dipshit!" the crossbow wielder yelled. "You a'ight?"

Michonne nodded and continued on.

"Hey," the brunette guard said. "Can we stop for a minute? I gotta use the bathroom."

Michonne stopped, unable to believe what she was hearing, and rolled her eyes. It figured that Rick would not only send her out with two guards, but he sent her out with two _unorthodox_ guards.

"Yeah, go ahead," the man with the crossbow answered nonchalantly. "I got her."

Michonne and her guard stood under the awning of the general store that the brunette went inside of to take care of business. The guard sat his crossbow to the side and leaned his back against the side of the store as he waited. After looking at Michonne's back for a few minutes, he tapped her arm.

Michonne turned over her shoulder to see what he wanted, and she was presented with the offer of jerky again. When she just stood and looked at it, he pushed it toward her once more. Michonne sighed and finally just took the jerky. She brought it to her mouth and took a difficult bite of the tough substance.

It tasted like bitter rubber.

"What kind of jerky is this?" she asked, speaking to the man for the first time. "It tastes disgusting."

"You don't like it?" Daryl asked, sounding genuinely surprised. He immediately took the remaining piece from her hand. "Well, shit, no need to waste it. It's raccoon jerky."

"Raccoon?" Michonne asked. She walked further into the shade and leaned against the side of the building. "Is there even such a thing as raccoon jerky?"

"There is now," Daryl said. "Meat is meat. I made it myself."

Michonne nodded, amused by the man. "My name's Michonne," she said.

Daryl glanced at her and nodded, letting her know that he was appreciative of her letting him know her name. "I'm Daryl. The man inside there is Spencer." He glanced at her again. "So you're Rick's new wife..." he said. "Must be interesting..."

Michonne's eyebrows rose; it was strange being referred to as someone's wife. Especially when she hadn't even agreed to the marriage yet. But she wouldn't harp on those things. "You close to him?" she asked.

"Yeah," Daryl replied. "Man might as well be my brother. In fact, I think he's become closer to me than my brother was..."

Michonne stared at Daryl curiously. That sounded like a rave review. "So he's a good man?" she asked.

Daryl shrugged. "He's got his faults. But who don't these days? We've all done somethin' we ain't proud of. He's always done right by me. And the safety of this community is his first priority. That's good enough for me. What about you?" Daryl asked. "You a good person?"

Michonne stared at him. It really was a hard question to answer. "I have my faults."

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"Dad, don't be silly," Carl laughed.

"I'm not being silly!" Rick replied. "Birds, bees, and storks are all involved in the process!"

"Why are you even asking these questions, Carl?" Lori asked, her eyes sparkling with joy. "You're supposed to give us a few more years! Where do babies come from," she scoffed. "Please. What makes you ask that?"

"My friend, Tyler, said he knows and made fun of me for not knowing!"

"Well, you can tell your friend, Tyler, the thing about the birds, bees, and storks that I told you," Rick said.

"No," Lori laughed. "That'll _really_ get him teased out of school." She stroked Carl's hair away from his face. "Just tell Tyler the truth. Babies come from heaven. I know you did."

A tear leaked from behind Rick's eyelids as he sat in the emptiness of the living room. He had returned home from overseeing the new rations at the supply store to silence and the torments of his mind.

He quickly wiped his face when Michonne came through the door, erasing all traces of weakness and pain. He stared at Michonne as she took her boots off, holding onto the arm of the couch for support. "You have a good setup here," she was saying. "I was honestly expecting to find some kind of weakness but-"

"Where did you go?" Rick asked.

Michonne stood up, her feet successfully bare, and looked at Rick before answering. "All over. I was exploring the community."

"Next time you should tell me if you're going to be gone."

"You told me I had free rein as long as I stay within the walls of the community."

"You do," Rick said. "But tell me when you're going to be gone."

"Don't you have the guards following me so that they report my every move? I'm sure they'll let you know anything you want to know." She started to walk past him towards the stairs, but he caught her wrist, stopping her in her tracks.

Michonne glared down at him.

"You're sleeping in my room tonight," he rasped, his eyes looking strangely pained.

"What?" Michonne asked.

"You're going to be with me tonight."

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

\- Michonne finds out about Rick and the women of the community in the next chapter.


	4. Chapter 4

Recap of Previous Chapter: Michonne told Rick of her plans not to go through with marriage to him. He started pushing marriage plans forward in spite of her disagreement, even after she told him about her family back in The Kingdom. And he threatened her into being complacent.

Abraham is in talks with some members of the ASZ thinking about staging a coup.

Michonne and Daryl seem to be forming a friendship.

Rick just told Michonne that she would be sleeping with him.

 **Chapter Four: Almost Human**

Michonne pulled her wrist from Rick's hand. "No, I'm not," she stated definitively.

The glare coming from Michonne's eyes was a challenge and a warning. Rick stared up at her from squinted eyes, assessing her, before he stood up and invaded her space. Michonne didn't move or back down. Her muscles tensed and she squared her chin; Rick knew he wouldn't be spending the night with her without a fight.

He took a deep breath and let his hand come down to cup her cheek and the back of her neck, letting his thumb trail along her jawline. He felt Michonne tense further, but she continued to stare defiantly up at him.

The determination in her stare and the steady heaving of her chest indicated that she wasn't afraid or wary. Rick felt his body reacting to her confidence. He wanted to see whether it was a facade. He had planned on her being yet another distraction for the night, but he found himself realizing that he might actually enjoy this. He took another step closer – his hand still on her cheek and his chest now pressed against her own.

Michonne's heart pumped with anger when she felt Rick's breath fan against her lips.

Rick began to lean in to capture her full, frowning lips with his own – his eyes stayed open to watch her every reaction as he moved in. All he saw was anger, disgust, and maybe a little bit of annoyance. It somewhat amused him that, in this situation, she would look at him as she would look at a mosquito fat from sucking her blood.

Rick was thinking he would just have to change that when he felt an object press against his stomach. He stopped in his tracks, his lips a mere inch from Michonne's own. He knew immediately what it was that had stopped him, but he decided to ask anyway. "What's that?" he asked, his voice low.

"A knife."

A dry chuckle left Rick's lips. For a quick moment, he was tempted to take the wound just so he could press his lips against hers and take away her damned confidence. Her calm. He wanted to make this strong woman tremble.

"You won't kill me," he said, refusing to back down so easily.

"Try me," Michonne said, her gaze unblinking. "Peace between us may be detrimental in this upcoming battle, but _no one_ is going to fight a war on my body."

Rick stared down at Michonne a moment longer. His thumb stroked the softness of her cheek. Then he stepped back. Away from her.

There was no sigh of relief. No relaxing. Michonne just simply drew the knife back and placed it inside of the waistband of her pants – where Rick assumed she drew it from.

"Where'd you get the knife?" he asked, gesturing lightly.

Michonne just gave him a look asking him if he really thought she was going to answer that – she had stolen it from the young brunette guard when neither he nor Daryl was looking - and then she began to make her way to the stairs again.

"Hey. Wait," Rick called. Michonne paused and turned to face him. "Come here."

Michonne didn't move. When Rick saw that same defiant expression settle on her features once again, he knew she meant to stay right where she was.

"I want to show you something," Rick explained.

He went to his closet and pulled out two thin, black jackets. One for him and one for her. He approached her and held the one meant for her out to her.

Michonne studied him curiously for a moment before she took it from his hand and began to put it on.

Satisfied, Rick led her outside into the night. There was a comfortable chill in the air that brushed over the two people's skin like a gentle feather. "Where are we going?" Michonne asked, still a bit perturbed about what had just happened before. She wasn't sure if she should be following him to some mysterious place.

"On your tour around today, did you happen to stop by the tower?"

"No."

"Well, that's where we're headed."

The trek to the tower was a short one. Michonne followed him just outside the gates, into the tower, up a narrow stairway, and then through a doorway that led into a circular room that made up the top of the tower.

The small circular room had a single viewing space at the top of the tower. One could look out past the trees and feel the slight chill coming through the window. A light-skinned African American woman with her hair pushed into a bun occupied the room. A sniper rifle was in her hand and she only turned from her vigil over the community to face the two people who had just entered the room.

"Hey, Sasha," Rick said. "Can you give us a minute?"

Sasha didn't respond verbally. She gave a silent nod, observed Michonne as she walked past, and left the room without argument. Michonne recognized the name immediately and paired this woman with the mystery shooter in the trees during their confrontation with the Saviors. The woman, Sasha, had her immediate respect.

She followed Rick towards the window-shaped opening in the tower wall and stood beside him as he looked towards the wall that surrounded his community.

Michonne observed that you could see right up to the infirmary from her spot in the guard tower.

Rick began to speak. "This is the guard tower. We have at least three people take up consecutive shifts throughout the day. Sasha," he nodded towards the exit that the other woman had just gone through. "She's our best sharpshooter so she's up here a lot of the time. There's also Spencer and a new promising shot, Hayley. There's someone here on watch at all times and on the wall." He pointed towards the wall where Michonne could see several guards perched. Some easily seen. Some hidden.

"There are walls surrounding the entire community, and all are heavily guarded. We make sure to train all residents in firing a gun and combat."

Rick's eyes scanned Michonne's trim body. "You can do combat," he said, remembering how she helped against the Saviors. "Can you shoot a gun?"

Michonne shrugged. "I'm okay..." The truth was that shooting wasn't Michonne's best skill and that peeved her a little bit.

Rick nodded. "...Okay."

"We have a pantry that oversees food supplies and divvies out the appropriate rations," Rick continued.

Michonne nodded. She had seen the pantry.

Rick continued to tell Michonne about the way things were run at the ASZ. She took in everything he said, but she couldn't fight her curiosity.

"Why are you telling me all of this?" she finally asked.

Rick turned to Michonne with sincere solemnity. He peered at her through intense blue eyes. "It's clear that you don't like me very much," Rick started. Michonne arched an eyebrow, wondering where he was going with this. "And that's warranted. I don't know that I like you much either." Michonne tilted her head and placed her hand on her hip. That flare of annoyance sparked in her eyes again. Rick hid a smile. It wasn't true that he didn't know what his impression of her was; she had done nothing but impress him since their first meeting. But she didn't need to know that.

"But I plan on taking this union seriously," Rick said, continuing his explanation. "Between us _and_ between our communities. I need to know that I can trust you."

He held his hand out to Michonne for a handshake. And he realized that he was attempting to nip their burgeoning cold war in the bud. Michonne didn't take his hand. She glanced at it and then met his eyes again.

"I would say it's _me_ that has to trust _you_ ," Michonne said. Rick stared at her, not understanding what she was saying. "I'm in a strange community," Michonne continued. "Surrounded by strangers. I'm kind of at your mercy here."

Rick let his hand fall to his side, realizing she wasn't going to take it. "I doubt you're ever at _anyone's_ mercy," he mumbled. He placed his hands on his hips, a little agitated. "So you don't think you can trust me?" he asked.

"You threatened my family yesterday," Michonne said, her voice hard. "How can I?"

Rick shrugged. "Means to an end. Gotta keep you here somehow..."

"So you would bring war against my home if I were to leave right now?"

"This is your home now!" Rick said, pointing a strong finger at the ground to emphasize his statement. "That's what this is about. The marriage – the unity – is a good plan, but I gotta know that you're on my side if we're gonna make this work!"

"I'm not on your side if you threaten my family!"

"It was a false threat!" Rick said, throwing his hands up. "I won't hurt them. That wouldn't accomplish anything. If I turned on The Kingdom, I would have more enemies than friends and that's not something I want!" Rick ran an agitated hand across his brow.

Michonne stared at him and suddenly realized something about the man in front of her. He was struggling. He was struggling under the pressure of holding up this community on his own. It was a feeling she could recognize because she felt that same pressure when it was just her, Mike, and Andre. The feeling that if anything were to go wrong under your watch, it had the potential to cripple and break you.

She nodded. The threat of yet another enemy was pressing on him. She was sure he had seen many since this whole thing had begun. They all had.

Michonne also realized something else. "That's why you want to get married," she said. "A marriage doesn't only display a unity between The Kingdom and ASZ but it also sends a message to everyone else. That we're in this together."

"They'll at least bide their time before they try anything else," Rick said, confirming what she said. "And if we can get the Hilltop to fight in the meantime. They won't stand a chance."

Michonne nodded. It _was_ a good plan.

Rick saw the slight fall in her shoulders as she began to come around to his way of thinking. "Families don't get to stay together in this world..." he said, knowing where her thoughts must have gone. He didn't allow himself to let the seed of pity in his heart grow for the woman in front of him. At least she knew her family was still alive. "It's just the way things are now," he said, turning to look out of the tower room over the trees.

Only the slight rustle of leaves could be heard as silence descended upon the tower room for a moment.

Finally, Michonne's voice brought Rick's eyes back to her. "You can't pull anything like you did tonight," she said. Her moment of vulnerability was gone and she was back to being the confident, no-nonsense woman he had seen moments before. "I want to make it clear that this is only a political arrangement. Nothing else."

She held out her hand to him.

Rick glanced down at it and then back up to her face. He gently knocked her hand aside, not accepting her offer. "I can't promise that."

Michonne's brow furrowed and she looked at Rick in disbelief.

"You expect me to be married to you without getting one of the biggest benefits of being married?" Rick asked bluntly.

Michonne was taken aback at his question. Annoyance flashed in her eyes. Again. Rick smirked. "You would risk this whole union over whether or not you'll be getting some?" she asked. "That's a deal-breaker for you?"

Rick allowed a smile to actually break out across his lips. Her indignation was charming. "I would say that's about it, yeah," he said teasingly, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the ledge of the window-shaped opening. Michonne found herself being tempted to push him. Maybe that would wipe the smirk off of his face. She could tell that he was being semi-playful with him, but – though slightly shocked – she was not amused.

"Okay," Rick said, noticing this fact. "How about this? I won't force you to do anything you don't want to do." He held out his hand.

"You mean you won't rape me? Charming," Michonne said sarcastically. She rolled her eyes, but she took his hand and shook it.

"No," Rick said, holding onto her hand when she tried to retrieve it from his grasp. "I'm saying that the next time you won't be asking me to stop."

Michonne attributed the acceleration of her heartbeat to anger. She pulled her hand from Rick's and turned on her heel to leave.

"You're leaving?" Rick asked.

The slight desperation in Rick's voice caused Michonne to stop. She turned over her shoulder to look at him. "Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?"

"...No..."

Michonne looked at Rick curiously. "...You're not coming with me?" she asked.

Rick settled back against the ledge of the window-shaped opening. "...No," he said. He knew he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep anyway. The darkness was full of shadows.

"Okay..." Michonne said. She began to leave again but her steps faltered. Turning back to Rick – not quite knowing why she felt the urge – she asked, "Should I stay?"

Rick was taken aback by the question and he found himself almost saying 'yes'. But he ended up shaking his head. "...No," he answered. "No."

"...Okay." Michonne looked at him curiously for a moment more and then she left the room.

In the emptiness of the room, Rick looked out over the community once again and he began to wonder again. About his family. If there was even a chance that they could be alive...

He turned the ring on his finger and the weight of his agreement fully hit him. 'Marriage.' Agreeing with this meant that he was accepting that he would never see them again. Wasn't it?

His eyes caught Michonne's form as she left the tower and made her way back towards the wall of the ASZ. He spun the ring on his finger again and sat inside the tower letting the shadows overtake him.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

The next morning Michonne awoke in the Grimes residence. It took her a moment to remember where she was, but when she recalled that she was at the Alexandria Safe Zone awaiting a political marriage, reality settled in her stomach like a stone. It took her a moment to vacate her bed to start the day.

She thought back on Rick in the guard tower. It was a different Rick than the one she had been exposed to upon entrance to his home. But she was beginning to suspect that she was facing a nuanced and complex man anyway.

During the fight with the Saviors, he had been a capable leader. Just yesterday, he had been a ruthless asshole. But the night before he had seemed simply...human.

Michonne was still intrigued by the vulnerabilities he had allowed her to see. He was obviously a very guarded man so to see the cracks in his facade was shocking to say the least. Michonne threw her covers aside and got out of bed. 'Or maybe he's just certifiably insane,' she thought, going to the closet and casually grabbing a top and jeans that came with the room.

She appreciated that the room she had been given was wide, expansive, and generically decorated but it still felt strange to wake up in a place foreign to her. She almost didn't know what to do with herself. So she decided to take things one step at a time. And step one was to shower.

She tackled her morning routine, got dressed, and decided to go out to do another exploration of the neighborhood.

When she walked out the door, she wasn't surprised when she was flanked on both sides by Daryl and the silent Sasha.

"Where's that other guy?" she asked Daryl casually.

"Don't know," Daryl said with a shrug. "Rick came to get him for somethin' this morning and I haven't seen him since."

"Oh." Michonne glanced at Sasha and was met with a distant frown. She surmised that she probably wouldn't be able to pull one over on Sasha like she had the previous younger guard.

Michonne tried to pretend she didn't feel like a prisoner as she made her way through the streets of the town. But it was hard to do when she was continuously being met with stares. She didn't remember getting this many looks the last time she had made her rounds.

"...Do you know why these people are staring at me?" she asked Daryl with a frown.

"Word's gotten around," Daryl responded. "They know you're the new First Lady around here."

Michonne inwardly cringed at the mock title. "Can I ask what happened to the old First Lady?" Michonne asked, trying to ignore the curious looks. "I notice Rick still wears his wedding ring. Is she dead?"

"Prob'ly," Daryl responded. "But we don't really know. Rick never found her."

Curiosity settled on Michonne's face. "What do you mean he never found her?" she asked.

"Rick was in a coma when this whole thing started. He woke up and his family was gone. Never found 'em..."

"Them?"

"He had a son. Never found him either."

Michonne paused in her steps. "That's horrible," she said, feeling immediate sympathy for the man no matter their differences. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose Andre. Actually she could. And the thought was horrifying. She imagined it possibly happening every day and that's what kept her fighting.

She started walking again, wondering how Rick managed to make it through each day. Not only that, but to have built a community of his own.

She came out of her thoughts when Daryl tapped her arm. "This is it," he said. "The pantry. Ain't this where you were goin'?"

"Yeah," Michonne answered, bringing herself back to her surroundings.

She entered the small simple-looking cinder block building. Daryl and Sasha waited outside.

The inside of the pantry was small and crowded but organized. Shelves of food and other items lined the walls and there were a couple of storage lockers. There was even a wall of stocked weaponry off in the back corner. Two men were over there seeming discussing the specs of a small pistol. One of them was wearing a weapon of his own on his hip so Michonne assumed he was some kind of guard.

"Can I help you?" a female voice asked, calling Michonne's attention to a counter that sat against the far wall of the room.

A woman with shoulder length blonde hair and a pleasant smile stood behind it. Michonne approached her. "I'm just looking around," she said.

"Oh. You're-" the blonde woman looked slightly caught off guard for a moment. "You're...the woman from the other community. You're supposed to marry Rick."

A blush raced across the blonde woman's face, as if she was embarrassed by her surprised outburst. "Yeah," Michonne said. She wasn't sure how thrilled she was to simply be known as Rick's wife before anything else. "Michonne," she said, telling the woman her name.

"Jessie," the blonde replied.

"So how does this work?" Michonne asked, trying to ignore how flustered Jessie became after realizing who she was. "People come in to get supplies...check them out? And you keep records of it?" Michonne glanced over at the two men near the guns who had begun to speak in hushed tones. She thought she may be paranoid to think that they were shooting her furtive glances, but she soon found that that wasn't so. They really kept glancing over at her. She sighed, wondering how long she would have to put up with this.

"Yeah," Jessie said, answering Michonne's question. She pulled a clipboard out from behind the counter and laid it in front of her. It had a row of last names and a corresponding column of foodstuffs and other items. Beside each name and under every item was a number. Then there was a spot where a person could initial their name after they had picked up their assigned items. "Every household has a certain number of supplies that they can check out depending on how big their family is. I mean...this is just a baseline really though. We all know each other here so a lot of the time we'll have people come in and barter about what they want more or less of. If we can afford to give people what they want, we usually comply."

"Is that why the Andersons have access to so much more than the Petersons?" Michonne asked, looking down at the unbalanced numbers between the two families.

"Yeah, sure. That's why." One of the men commented from the side. There was then chortling between the two men and a high five. Michonne didn't need to know them to know that they were being facetious. She watched the blush run deeper across Jessie's cheeks.

"What's that mean?" Michonne asked the woman, not bothering to aim the question towards the two men.

"Nothing..." Jessie said, deflecting the question. "Do you want me to show you the storage room back here? We have a lot more stuff back there."

Michonne was about to answer the question, but she was interrupted before she could do so. "Say, Jessie," one of the men said, coming over to the counter. "Since Pete is dead, have you been lookin' for a new man to take his place? You must've been thinkin' you were gonna be getting Rick but..." he tilted his head toward Michonne. "That's obviously not gonna happen..."

Michonne's eyes flashed to Jessie, who's entire face flushed red. Embarrassed, Jessie whipped her head in the man's direction. "Are you here to get anything?" she asked in a hard voice. "If not, I think you should leave."

The man leaned his elbows on the table and laughed. "I don't see why I should."

Michonne didn't know exactly what was going on, but what she was seeing was a confrontational man taunting a defensive woman. She leaned against the counter and placed herself in the man's vision, taking his attention from Jessie. "Maybe you should just back up," she said. "She doesn't want you here."

The man turned to Michonne with a knowing smirk. Michonne didn't like it. She stood back up to her full height, ready to face him.

"You don't even know what you've gotten yourself into here," the man said with a laugh as he leaned casually against the counter, one elbow resting on it. Michonne simply glared at him while the man moved the clipboard toward himself and took it into his hands. "You wanna know why the Andersons...get more than the Petersons?" He stared at Jessie with a spiteful smirk. Michonne glanced at her to see that the woman was staring at him with trepidation. "It's because _Jessie Anderson_ here opened her legs to Rick enough times to get favorable treatment. Hell, what she was putting out was so good that she even got the man to kill her husband for her."

The words were barely out of the man's mouth before Jessie was landing a hard slap across his cheek.

He immediately reacted and made to reach over the counter to strike out at Jessie. Michonne grabbed his arm and pulled it behind his back before he could reach the other woman.

"Daryl!" she called, realizing that the man was much bigger than her and would be pulling himself free soon.

Daryl came through the door, saw the struggle, and immediately went to Michonne's aide. He took over the hold on the man and pushed him to his stomach on the floor. He put a knee in the man's back to keep him down. "What's goin' on?" he asked.

Michonne was too distracted to answer him. With the man neutralized, she grabbed the clipboard from the counter and her eyes scanned over the numbers. There were a few names with corresponding numbers that matched the Andersons', there were some with average numbers, and then there were some where the numbers were ridiculously low. Michonne's veins pulsed with anger.

"Contain him somehow," Michonne said shortly to Daryl. "I'll be back."

She pushed out of the door and stormed down the street of ASZ, leaving a confused Sasha behind. She was going to find Rick and find out what the hell was going on here.

'Just when I thought we could possibly get on the same page,' she thought.

\- Don't worry guys. I'm not planning on Jessie having a huge part in this story. (I mean, I'm not promising anything. But I'm not _planning_ on that right now.) And thanks for supporting me with this story guys! Please review.


	5. Chapter 5

Recap of Previous Chapter: Michonne and Rick came to an understanding in the guard tower – an understanding that resulted in Michonne agreeing to marry him.

Michonne learned of some questionable happenings in Alexandria and she immediately went to find Rick in order to get to the bottom of it.

 **Chapter Five: Relationship Status - Complicated**

Michonne found Rick at the wall. She stormed up to him as he shouted orders and cleared her throat when she reached him. She had to contain her anger because she didn't want to verbally challenge him in front of the people of ASZ. "Hey," she said quietly when he glanced over at her. "Can we go somewhere to talk?" She gripped the clipboard she had gotten from the pantry in her left hand.

"Sure," Rick said, glancing at her curiously. He took note that neither Daryl or Sasha were no longer with her, guarding her. He yelled out a final instruction to the man on the wall and then he followed Michonne back behind one of the nearby houses.

When she had him alone, she shoved the clipboard into his chest. "What is this?" she asked, her voice still lowered but it held a quiet sharpness.

Rick looked down at the log sheet of supplies and rations and shrugged his shoulders. "It's the supply sheet for the community," he responded.

"Why are the numbers so unbalanced?" Michonne asked.

After hearing the question, Rick immediately knew where her new-found anger was coming from when it seemed that they had left things relatively peaceful the night before. He tilted his head and stared at Michonne, wondering what to tell her. It was clear that she had already heard something or else she would not be here glaring at him like she was. He twisted his wedding band around his finger, pissed off at whoever thought it was their business to tell _his_ business. "Where are Daryl and Sasha?" Rick asked. Maybe if they had been guarding her properly, she wouldn't have run off and heard anything unnecessary.

"Back at the pantry," Michonne responded shortly. "Now why are the numbers unbalanced?" She refused to be sidetracked.

Rick shifted on his feet and felt a dull throbbing starting up in his head. He gripped the bridge of his nose before meeting her eyes again. "What have you heard?" he asked, getting to the point.

Michonne pressed her lips together, losing the little hope she had that the man in the pantry had just been slinging wild accusations. There had been a thought in the back of her mind that maybe Rick was completely innocent. "I heard that you've been doling out rations unfairly," Michonne said, leaving out the worst bit. "And these numbers seem to prove it."

Rick lifted his eyebrows. "Why would I do that?"

"I don't know; you tell me," Michonne retorted.

Rick could literally feel the heat coming from Michonne's eyes and he knew that she practically knew the whole story. She was just trying to catch him in a lie. Well, he wasn't about to give her that satisfaction. 'How dare she come at me with those judging eyes and think she can tell me how to run my community.' he thought spitefully. The throbbing in his temple grew stronger.

"I don't have time for this," Rick said, pushing the clipboard back against her chest. "I have to get ready to send Spencer outside the walls."

"Spencer?" Michonne said, remembering Daryl saying that was the name of her previous guard. "Isn't that the guy who was guarding me along with Daryl."

"Yep. He's going to go find the Savior's base camp for us."

Michonne stepped in front of Rick as he turned to casually walk away. "I don't know much about Spencer," Michonne said. "But are you sure you should be sending him? He doesn't seem to be the most committed person here...Who else is going with him?"

"He's going alone."

"Is that the wisest choice?" Michonne asked, temporarily distracted from her initial mission. "I mean...he just doesn't seem the most capable."

"Well, that's pretty obvious. You got that knife off of him, no trouble."

Michonne took note of Rick's accusatory gaze, his cocky stance, and she immediately understood. "You're punishing him," she said with a nod of her head. When Rick only shrugged his shoulder, practically confirming her statement, Michonne shook her head. "So what – you're sending him out there not expecting him to come back – practically giving him a death sentence because he's not a good enough guard?"

"He has to learn somehow," Rick said. "The best way to learn is to face the world out there head on. That's how _I_ learned. If he can toughen up and make it back here alive with helpful information then...it's a win for him _and_ us."

"And if he dies?"

"He wasn't strong enough."

Disappointment flooded Michonne's being. She couldn't place Rick Grimes. One minute she was trusting him and his sincere, piercing eyes - the next minute, every cell in her body was telling her to get away from him because his actions were less than honorable. Filing the Spencer issue away in the back of her mind – planning to address it later, Michonne held the clipboard up once again. "Are you taking advantage of these people?" she asked.

The muscles in Rick's jaw ticked. She was back to that. "I'm not taking advantage of anyone."

"Really? Some people here are under the impression that you only give preferential treatment to women that you've slept with. And what? You hold off on rations to those who refuse?"

The muscles in Rick's jaw continued to tick as he considered all of the possible responses he could have to this. The first being just to walk away. But there was also a prideful part of himself that wouldn't allow that. This was his community. He ran things as he saw fit. He wouldn't be shamed by anyone or anything. "That's exactly right," he ended up saying. "You got a problem with that?"

Further disappointment settled in Michonne's stomach. She looked into Rick's eyes and didn't see any modicum of regret. She wanted to ask why he would do something like this, but she knew she couldn't expect a response. And she didn't know why she was shocked. She didn't even know this man.

She dropped the clipboard into the dirt at their feet. "The deal is off," she said.

A storm cloud of anger twisted in Rick's chest. "If you take one step outside of those gates," Rick called through gritted teeth as she stormed off. "I'm gonna have them take you out." She kept walking in the direction she had come from and Rick kicked the clipboard at his feet from frustration. He planted his hands on his hips and tried to calm down. 'Great,' he thought sardonically. 'Exactly what I needed.'

0000000000000000000000000000000000000

Michonne instructed Daryl to take the troublemaker from the pantry to the one-room cell at the Alexandria Safe Zone until he had a chance to cool off and until she had a better idea of what to do with him. She wasn't familiar with anyone here so she didn't know if the man was just having a bad day and this would be a one-time thing or if he would cause more trouble for having been offended by her.

The cell was simply a one-room office that had been stripped of everything but a bed to use for sleeping and the door was rigged to lock from the outside.

Michonne, Daryl, and Sasha now stood outside of the door as the angered man yelled profanities from inside. It was hard to make out what he was saying through the makings of the door, but Michonne didn't have to be creative to guess.

"Did Rick tell you to have us lock him up?" Daryl asked, squinting over at her.

"No," Michonne said. The mention of Rick's name caused her to anger all over again. "But it needed to be done."

"What happened?" Daryl asked. "Jessie said he tried to attack her."

"Yeah. He came over there insulting her, she slapped him, and that's when he tried something. I had to stop him. For all I know, he could've killed her. Doesn't seem to have much self-control."

"Huh." Daryl said, looking back towards the door. "Wonder what he coulda said to get _Jessie's_ panties all twisted. She's usually quiet and keeps to herself..."

Michonne wondered if she should talk to Daryl about what Rick had going on here. He had said that Rick was like a brother to him. Would he be truthful about how much he knew or would he just defend his friend blindly? Daryl seemed to be a simple and honest man who had been nothing but friendly to her, but she just wasn't sure who she could trust here and who she couldn't.

"I'm sure whatever he said, he deserved the slap," Sasha said. This was the first time Michonne was hearing her speak. "The man's an asshole."

Michonne studied Sasha for a moment, her hands on her hips. Sasha stared back at her and when Michonne didn't speak, her brows drew into a deep scowl. She obviously didn't like being stared at. "He claimed that Rick shows favor to women he's slept with," Michonne said. "And that he keeps supplies from those who refuse?"

The two women stared at each other, sizing one another up. "Yeah," Sasha finally said. "What can I say? Rick's an asshole too."

"Hey." Sasha turned to Daryl in annoyance when he shoved her shoulder. "Why you tellin' everything?" Daryl asked. "We don't know her! She might be a spy!"

"What am I telling her that she hasn't already figured out?" Sasha argued. "It's not like Rick's shy about it! He treats this town and all the women in it like they're his property!"

"Is there anything else I should know?" Michonne asked, interrupting their argument. She still felt that weight of disappointment in her stomach. "Is he violent? Dangerous?"

"Only to his enemies," Daryl responded.

"And anyone who offends him," Sasha added. When she got a glare from Daryl, she got defensive. "What?" she asked. "You know it's true!" She turned back to Michonne. "He does more than keep supplies from those who refuse him. He'll take that only so many times, depending on how much he wants the woman. If he continues to be refused, it's exile. Or death."

Michonne's stomach twisted with disgust. "So they don't have a choice."

"I wouldn't say they do, no," Sasha replied.

Daryl looked between the two women and jumped in quickly. "He ain't a rapist!"

"Then what do you call it, Daryl?!" Sasha snapped. This was obviously an argument they had had before. "It's certainly not sex by consent! Those women don't want to be there!"

"He doesn't hurt 'em."

"How does he choose the women?" Michonne asked, stopping their argument once again, fighting through her displeasure. "Does he just pick them at random?"

"I don't know," Sasha said with a shrug. "You would have to ask him." Her eyes slid past Michonne's shoulder. "And it looks like you'll get your chance. Here he comes."

"Michonne!"

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Rick approached Daryl, Michonne, and Sasha with anger still in his chest. When Michonne turned to face him at the sound of her name, he could tell that her anger hadn't died down either. "My house," he growled at her. " _Now_." He wasn't surprised when Michonne faced him in that defiant way of hers and stood her ground. Only the sound of pounding from behind the closed door of the cell stopped him from grabbing her wrist and physically dragging her back to his house. "What is that?" he asked, peering at the door and then at Daryl and Sasha. "What's going on here?"

"Robertson caused some trouble at the pantry," Daryl answered. "We had to lock him up in there."

"Under whose order?" Rick asked.

When neither Daryl or Sasha said anything, Rick had his answer. His gaze came back to lock on Michonne. "Yeah," he said softly. "Yeah, I see..."

Rick took a step back and thought about how to proceed.

"Open the door," he said after a moment's thought.

"He needs to be in there," Michonne protested.

"Open the door," Rick said again.

"To cool off!"

"Open. The door," Rick ordered, low in his throat.

Daryl shifted on his feet and then moved to open the door. Michonne sighed and threw up her hands.

When the door opened, the man – Robertson – came out steaming mad. Daryl and Sasha hoisted their weapons and aimed them in his direction. That's probably the only thing that stopped him from invading Michonne's space and confronting her. Rick noticed that she tensed and turned all of her focus to the potential threat.

"Your new woman is fucking nuts, man," Robertson said to Rick while glaring at Michonne. "You need to keep her under control-"

Robertson's sentence was cut off when a gunshot rang through the air. His head jerked back and a look of surprise crossed his face before all life faded away as he fell to the ground. Blood leaked from his head and into the dirt at everyone's feet.

Everyone was shocked into stillness.

Michonne turned with wide eyes to see Rick holstering his weapon, looking for all the world as if he had just dusted off his boots and not erased another man's presence from the world. "You don't even know what he did!" Michonne said.

"Don't need to," Rick responded. He stepped back into her personal space and tilted his head as he looked down at her. "See, we're a team. We made that agreement last night, didn't we? If you think someone needs to be punished, I'll be right there to back you up." He stepped closer to her, the muscles in his jaw working. "I keep my word. You need to learn to keep yours. The next time you try to call the deal off, I'll consider you my enemy." He nodded his head toward the body on the ground. "And you see what happens to my enemies..."

After feeling that she understood him, Rick stepped back and gestured to Sasha and Daryl. "Clean him up," he said. "People don't wanna see this..."

He peered at Michonne again. "The house," he said again. " _Now_." Then he walked away and clasped the bridge of his nose, trying to fight the throbbing in his head.

Michonne glared as Rick left and then she turned one more time to see the damage he had done.

"This isn't good..." Daryl said, glancing warily between Michonne and Sasha and seeing the curious townspeople starting to appear. "Two bodies in less than two weeks?"

"This isn't the first time he's done this?" Michonne asked.

Daryl shook his head. "Jessie's husband..."

Michonne nodded, understanding.

Robertson had obviously been less than a stand-up guy, but what he had done hadn't warranted a death sentence. She had gotten her answer about Rick. He was dangerous.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Rick waited impatiently for Michonne in the living room of his house. When she walked through the door, he immediately began to speak. "I've been standing here wondering how best to handle you," Rick said. "Maybe keeping you contained to the house is the best course of action for now."

Michonne rolled her eyes, offended by the fact that he thought he could treat her like a child. She stepped into his personal space and looked up into his eyes. "I'm going on the run to find the Savior's base camp with Spencer."

Rick's eyes raised to his hairline. He was surprised at her audacity. "Excuse me?" he said with a chuckle.

"I'm going on the run with Spencer," Michonne repeated again. "I took the knife; I should get the same punishment as him, shouldn't I?"

Rick shifted on his feet, unsure of what she was trying to pull. "You think I'm gonna let you do that?" he asked. "When I know you're just tryin' ta run away from me?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Michonne said. "This has nothing to do with you. Or me wanting to go back home. This has to do with me wanting to find the Savior's base camp so that this whole war can be over sooner rather than later."

Rick stared down at Michonne. "Well, you can't go," he responded. "Our wedding is in a couple of days." He tilted his head. "Can't miss that."

Michonne had to fight down her disdain. She purposefully tried to keep the wedding out of her head. She didn't even want to think about it. But she knew it was approaching. And approaching soon. She inhaled a breath. "Then hold off on the run until after the ceremony," she offered.

"Why?" Rick asked. "The whole point of this mission is to see if Spencer can do it on his own."

"We both know he can't."

"Well..." Rick shrugged.

Frustration welled in Michonne's chest. "...How long do you think you can continue to dole out these harsh punishments before this town turns on you? How many women do you think you can take advantage of before one of these families rebel?" Rick squinted at her, his expression full of ire. "When I first saw you," Michonne continued. "I got the impression that you were a good leader. But you're one of the worst kind."

"And I saw you and thought you were a woman who knew how this world works now," Rick retorted. "We can't afford to live by the rules we used to live by; people shouldn't expect it. You see what you want and you take it! _That's_ how it is now. If you're not doing the taking, you're the one being taken from! I'd rather be the one doing the taking."

Michonne shook her head. "You're wrong," she said. "That's how it is _out there_. In here...it's supposed to be safe. In here... _you_ make the rules. The world doesn't make the rules for you."

A flash of the life Rick had before came to mind. Upstanding deputy. Perfect life. Perfect family. His hand shook and he twisted the wedding band on his finger.

He recognized the truth of Michonne's words. He knew they should make sense. But the things that this world had bred into him, the person this world had forced him to become...it was what kept him alive.

Michonne saw that Rick had gone somewhere else again. It was something she was beginning to notice more and more. Maybe she recognized it so well because it used to happen to her all the time. When the outbreak first happened. Before she and her family made it to the safety of the Kingdom. She would constantly be drawn back to the time before it all happened. Knowing that she could never go back. That no one could. And she would mourn that life, the time before, and who she used to be. Because she was no longer that person. She was a person who would do whatever it took to survive. To keep her family safe.

Mike had been right. She had become just like those things out there to keep them all alive. Soulless. It was only when she reached the Kingdom that she felt she had a chance to live again. So she had been able to turn it off. Whatever kept her going outside those walls. She had been able to turn it off. If only for a little while.

The world out there was always present though. And she had to live in it. That's what she understood and Mike didn't. The world out there wasn't going away. So it could only be ignored for so long before the reality of it would have to be faced again. That's why she continued to go outside the walls. That's why she continued to fight. And that's probably why a part of her continued to stand in front of this man, giving him the time of day. He couldn't turn the fight off.

Michonne looked down at Rick's trembling hand and without thinking about it, she reached out to stop it.

Rick's unfocused eyes focused in on her again when he felt her hand touch his.

"Those of us who choose to face the monsters every day have to make those who don't feel safe," Michonne stated. "We have to protect them."

"...I couldn't protect my family..." Rick found himself saying, his voice a whisper.

"You didn't have a chance to..." Michonne said.

Rick stepped closer to Michonne, wanting to absorb her calm aura. What was it about her that made it seem as if everything would be okay?

A knock at the door sounded and Rick felt as if he was being broken from a trance.

He went to the door and opened it to find Jeanine, a long-time resident of the community, standing there. She was a brunette with wavy, shoulder-length hair and she wore a nervous smile. "Hi, Rick," she greeted.

"Jeanine," Rick nodded back.

"I know you didn't call for me, but our rations this month weren't satisfactory and I was wondering...I don't know...My husband doesn't know I'm here..."

"Come in," Rick said, stepping aside to let her in. Her brown hair was so much like Lori's. "Go upstairs."

Jeanine stepped inside, wringing her hands nervously. She pulled up short when she saw Michonne, quite surprised to see her. She nodded a quick greeting and then rushed upstairs without saying a word.

Michonne felt that familiar anger clenching in her chest. Again, she was left wondering how she could feel so close to this man only a moment before but then a moment later she was back out to sea. Wondering why she hadn't cut this man out of her life yet. Literally and figuratively.

Rick stopped in front of Michonne and stared at her with strange eyes. He caressed her cheek and let his thumb run across her jawline. "I'll send her back," he said huskily. "If you agree to be with me tonight."

The anger and disgust was in Michonne's eyes again, but Rick ignored it. There had been understanding in her eyes earlier. Rick had people look at him with awe, adoration, fear, contempt, distrust, but he had never had anyone look at him in the way she had a few moments before. From the first moment he saw her, there had been some kind of pull he was feeling from her. Now he was beginning to understand it. She may hate him, but there was a part of her that understood him and knew exactly what he was going through. He wanted to get that look back.

Michonne pushed his hand away. "Never," she said firmly.

The muscles in Rick's jaw twitched. He nodded and then he backed away.

He started up the stairs, paused, and then turned to face her before going the rest of the way. "I'll hold off on finding The Saviors' base camp until after the wedding. Then I'll send a party along with Spencer."

Michonne lingered for a moment and then she turned to leave the house as she heard the closing of Rick's bedroom door. 'One step at a time,' she reminded herself. 'You can handle this. You just have to take it one step at a time.'

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

 **3 Days Later – The Wedding**

Michonne squared her jaw and faced herself in the mirror. Her dreads were swept back into a ponytail. Ribbons hung from each loc and ended with a small bell so that every time she turned her head, a gentle chiming of bells would ring out. Maggie Greene, the woman who was helping her get ready and the woman whose idea it had been to do such a thing, told her it was good luck to hear bells ringing on your wedding day.

Michonne didn't care either way though. Even if she were surrounded by all the angels of heaven singing out 'hallelujah', she'd feel as she did now. Like she was making the worst mistake of her life.

Every muscle in her body was telling her to run. Every neuron in her brain was trying to figure out some way to escape.

But all of that was combated by one thought. The need to keep her family safe. That's what kept her sitting in her seat, waiting for her summons to the wedding grounds – a wooden stage constructed right in the middle of the community.

'An alliance between our communities is for the greater good,' Michonne thought. She took a deep breath and patted down her hair. 'For the greater good...I can do this.'

Michonne could hear the commotion out on the street.

She wasn't sure how it had been accomplished or who had accomplished it...but whoever had been in charge of planning the wedding had managed to get word out to everyone. Just like Rick wanted.

Of course all of the ASZ residents were there. There were cake stands and drink stands; they were treating this like a true celebration. Michonne had been informed that The Kingdom was also there. And even The Hilltop. Of course they had received an invitation. It would look suspicious if they didn't.

Michonne felt her stomach turn over when she thought about the possibility of Mike being out there. And her son. Would they really come? Was everyone in The Kingdom invited or was it only a few?

"Michonne. He's ready."

Maggie's thick, country accented voice cut through the room and Michonne's nerves kicked in tenfold.

She made her way out of the backroom of the convenience store that had served as her vanity room and made her way out into the street. She held a bouquet of purple flowers that matched her non-traditional purple wedding dress. It was a simple, sleeveless, evening gown that complemented Michonne's skin tone well.

She was led to the makeshift venue and was quite taken aback by what she saw.

The plain wooden stage she had seen earlier in the morning was decked out with a flowered archway used as a backdrop and flower petals lined the floor of the stage and the street leading up to it. Stairs, also strewn with themed purple and white flower petals, led up to the stage from three sides – the right, left, and front. Michonne knew from being told that when the music started, she was meant to walk up onto the stage using the stairs on the right and Rick would come up the stairs on the left and they would meet in the middle of the stage.

A makeshift barrier separated the crowd, which spread out on both ends of the street, and the small platform. Father Gabriel, the priest of the community, stood decked out in his robes on the platform ready to start the ceremony.

It really hit Michonne then that this was the real deal. She was getting married.

Rick appeared on the other side of the platform from her and Michonne was disgusted by how handsome he was. The black suit he had dressed up in really made the blue of his eyes stand out and his hair was slicked back becomingly.

Rick was surprised at the way his heart sped up when he saw Michonne on the other side of the platform, completely made up. She was beautiful. The only thing that could have made her look any better was a smile – she looked anything but happy. Rick twisted the wedding band on his finger absentmindedly with his thumb.

It was only after he touched the metal that he realized he was still wearing it.

It would be disrespectful to Lori to wear it during another marriage, no matter how much of a political arrangement it was. With a clenching heart, he took the ring off of his finger and put it into his pocket.

A slow wedding march started and both Rick and Michonne took a deep breath before they started on their trek to each other.

Michonne felt like she was moving through a dream that she couldn't influence as she came to the middle and met Rick there. They turned to face the front, he held his hand out palm down and she placed her hand on top of his. The music stopped and a hush settled on the crowd. The lack of sound was deafening. The only sound that rose above the silence was a small voice that Michonne couldn't help but to recognize.

"Mama!"


	6. Chapter 6

\- Going to reply to some reviews.

MichonneGalaxy: Thank you for enjoying this story. I plan on trying to get two updates out per week from now on (hopefully this works out).

givesup: Thank you for enjoying brutal, insensitive, asshole Rick. I'm glad that he's still sympathetic and relatable to you.

Guest: Yay! Hopefully this one will be worth the wait as well.

Jaylinn: You no longer have to patiently wait for the next update. It's here!

ssaamm23: He's definitely still got some work to do in winning over Michonne. He's gonna have to do a lot better than he is.

Guest: Nooo, don't wish that. Lol. I hope Rick can become a good leader as well.

courtgirl26: That was definitely Andre and, yes, that means Mike was there as well. Read on to see what happens with them.

Guest: Hehe. I use that trick all the time when I'm reading a good fanfiction. Well, here's chapter six for you. Hopefully it appeared soon enough.

Guest: You definitely have some strong feelings about this. Just please don't judge other people for what they take away from my stories. That's all I ask. You can bash Rick as much as you want (no one disagrees that he's a douchebag of the worst kind) but I hope you can continue to read this story being open to all of the characters and all of their faults. Thank you for the passionate review. I really do appreciate it.

Laney: (If you're still reading this story...) I just want to make it clear that Michonne did not abandon Andre. She will never "abandon" him. He's everything to her. She only does what she thinks is best for him.

blacklitchick: Definitely. Michonne definitely challenges him. Thank you for enjoying the story.

ttgranger: Thank you for the words of encouragement! They really meant a lot! It can get disheartening when people don't seem to enjoy the characters you're creating but don't worry; I'll keep trucking as long as there are positive reviews like yours. And yes...can Rick be redeemed? We'll see.

Siancore: Lol. I laughed at you saying she needs to grab Andre and make a dash for it. Rick really does need to figure out a better way of handling his demons. We'll see if he can.

focusedOnProsperity: Yep. It's one step forward, two steps back with these two. And I'll answer your question about Sasha; he hasn't tried anything with her. So far, his inner circle has gone pretty much untouched by his antics. Read on to find the answers to your other questions.

Khaz'Dynn: Lol. You guys are cracking me up with all the reviews saying Michonne just needs to get the hell out. Read on to see what happens next. -

 **Chapter Six: A Family Reunited**

Michonne's gaze landed on Mike and Andre. They were standing right in front of her. Her heart jumped to see the two guys in her life whom she had fought so hard to protect once the world went to shit. Before the apocalypse, the people you chose to share your life with were your loved ones. After the apocalypse, the people who managed to survive the initial outbreak with you became your everything.

Michonne's eyes flitted to Mike's face. He didn't look angry or upset like she had expected him to. He looked...sad.

Michonne's hand fidgeted atop Rick's own.

"We will begin," Father Gabriel's voice announced, startling Michonne's nervous heart. She jumped slightly.

Rick didn't notice. He was too busy in his own head, remembering his last wedding. His hand shook beneath Michonne's.

"Face each other, please."

Michonne and Rick turned to face each other, working on autopilot.

Michonne could feel Mike and Andre's eyes on her. It was the only thing on her mind while Father Gabriel went through his recitations. A purple string was tied loosely around Rick and Michonne's wrists as they held hands, signifying the bonding of their lives.

"Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold. In sickness and in health. As long as you both shall live. Until death do you part?"

Michonne took a deep breath. "Yes," she answered quickly. Before the burning gazes, the doubts, and the fears could overtake her. "Yes, I do."

"And do you, Rick, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold. In sickness and in health. As long as you both shall live. Until death do you part?"

Thoughts of Lori, Carl, and the life he once had flooded Rick's mind. But he went through the motions. "Yes," he answered, his voice low. "I do."

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Michonne was all-too-aware of her family's eyes on her. She lifted her eyes to Rick and hoped he would make the kiss quick. He placed his hand on her cheek and leaned in. Michonne closed her eyes, dreading the moment of contact. She was surprised, however, when she felt a feather-light kiss placed against her forehead.

A trumpet sounded and confetti was thrown. The wedding was over.

Michonne marveled at the fact that the entire ceremony couldn't have taken more than ten minutes. In ten minutes, her life had changed forever. She met Rick's eyes as Father Gabriel unbound their wrists and she saw that he was just as out-of-sorts as she was.

"Are you ready?" Michonne asked.

"Yeah," Rick answered. "We're a team."

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

For some reason, Rick felt out-of-place in his own home. In his own body. And he knew the only person who could understand that feeling right now was Michonne. He followed her down the steps situated at the front of the stage. People were cheering and the celebration began to get under way full swing. He was sure almost everyone there was just glad to have a reason to celebrate more than they were genuinely cheering at his union.

He wasn't foolish enough to not see the way some people looked at him these days. Like he was a tyrant. A disturbed man. Like they were afraid of him. _Him_. When there was much more to be afraid of out there.

He didn't care anymore. They could think of him however they wanted. As long as they also remembered that he kept this place safe. He would do what was needed to protect everyone. To keep them alive. Even if they hated him.

"To kick off the festivities, the bride and groom will now share a dance," Father Gabriel officiated.

Rick and Michonne stopped in the middle of the empty area in front of the platform as they had been instructed to do earlier that morning when going through the steps of their wedding ceremony. Music started and Rick took her hand, placed it on his shoulder, and he held her other one in his own.

They stepped together – Rick's other hand on Michonne's waist – and their chests made slight contact.

Rick looked down at his new bride and allowed himself to consider what all of that meant.

His eyes swept her dark skin and her strong, proud shoulders. She was so different from Lori. So foreign to him. There was nothing about her that reminded him of his past wife and yet...There was a familiarity between them. An immediate trust. And he knew she felt it too.

But he couldn't catch her eyes at the moment. She was glancing out at the crowd.

"What's wrong?" he asked, noticing that she was distracted. "You see someone that you know?"

Michonne turned back to face him before he could follow her eyes out to crowd. "It's nothing," she said with a small shake of her head.

Rick studied Michonne's features and knew immediately that it was definitely something. He sighed. "If we're going to be partners, we need to start talking more. Communicating better."

Michonne frowned at him, letting him know that she didn't even want to be here dancing with him, much less communicating. "I'll start talking more when I start to believe you're actually going to listen."

"I'll listen," Rick said. A teasing sparkle lit his eyes.

"Right," Michonne said, obviously not believing him. "Put me in charge of rations," Michonne challenged.

The humoring smile fell off of Rick's face and his eyes grew guarded again. He didn't respond.

"If you really want us to be a team, things have to start being much different around here. I can't be a partner to you if you're not a partner to me."

Rick took a deep breath. He really didn't want to talk about this on a day that was already causing him a certain amount of confusion and stress. "Fine," he clipped.

Michonne gave him a slight double take. "What?"

"I said fine," Rick said with a shrug of his shoulders.

Suspicion settled on Michonne's expression. She had expected him to put up some kind of fight. Maybe threaten to lock her in the house again. "Just like that?" Michonne questioned, her doubts clear in her voice.

"Just like that," Rick repeated.

It was clear from Michonne's face that she suspected Rick may be pulling something over on her. He found that somewhat amusing.

Switching gears, Rick slid his hand from her waist to the center of her lower back, his pinkie grazing the peak of her hips. He pulled her closer until her chest was completely pressed against his. "It's our wedding night tonight," he said in a lowered voice. "Should I even dare to be excited?"

Michonne began to glance around again as she gently pushed away from him. "No," she responded. "You shouldn't."

A small irritation rose in Rick's chest at the feeling that something more important than him was pulling her attention away. He squinted and then glanced around as well. "What is it?" he asked again, not seeing anything that stood out.

Michonne realized there was no way she would be able to get through the rest of the ceremony without Andre and Mike on her mind. Not while they were all-too present. "My family's here," she admitted to Rick, continuing to step robotically to the music – a healthy distance between them.

"Ahh," Rick said. He couldn't believe he hadn't realized that. Of course they were there. Everyone from The Kingdom was there. "Your son and your 'someone'." His heart ached at the thought of his own son. Michonne's lack of attention on the events at hand became more clear to him. He watched her glance toward the crowd one more time. "Do you see them?" he asked.

"I did," Michonne answered. "I don't anymore."

"...You want to go find them?" Rick asked. The music stopped and Michonne looked up at him, surprised a second time by the tenderness she was faced with. The first time had been with the kiss he had given her at the conclusion of their vow exchange.

"Yeah," she answered sincerely. "I do."

Rick took a step back and gestured for her to go ahead. With a grateful nod, Michonne began to walk off to find Mike and Andre. Rick caught her wrist before she could leave completely. She turned back to meet his blue eyes with a curious stare. "Come back," he said. A command and a plea.

Michonne nodded. "I will," she promised.

Seeing that she understood, Rick released her again. He watched as she disappeared into the crowd and then she was gone from his sight.

"Now that the bride and groom have started us off," Father Gabriel continued to officiate. "We encourage everyone to find a partner and join the dance. We're also serving food and drinks in various places up and down the street. Just find a table and grab what you want. Don't worry about rationing tonight. Tonight is all about having a good time!"

Cheers were raised up and down the street.

Rick allowed himself to look over the crowd and smile. He was proud. There weren't many times that he let himself stop and find joy in everything they had all accomplished. The dead had come to life and tried to take over. Many died or got defeated but these people... _his_ people...managed to prevail. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he might really be able to enjoy himself tonight.

And he was slightly surprised that he was hoping his new wife would quickly find him again so that they could get to know each other better.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Rick approached Ezekiel with a drink in his hand.

The older ruler had been placed in a raised seat of honor off to the side under an awning so that he could see the proceedings better. Rick considered now to be the perfect time to find out more about his new allies.

"This is a nice turn-out," the older man said, a large smile on his face. He was welcoming to his new companion who had come to stand at his side. "I feel sorry for those of my men who had to stay and guard our Kingdom."

Rick shrugged. "Had to be done. Due to this new threat, we've seen what some people are willing to do just to take others' things."

"That's true," Ezekiel agreed.

Rick looked around at the celebration happening around him. "I can't help but to notice that Spencer isn't here. I see some of his high-ranking officers, but I don't see him."

"Can't say I'm surprised," Ezekiel said of the leader of The Hilltop. "He's probably embarrassed to face either of us. The man's a coward."

Rick chuckled, thinking that he quite liked this old man. "That and he believes we'd try to talk him into joining this fight." Rick took a drink of the alcohol in his cup, the liquid burning a passage down his throat and to his stomach.

Ezekiel swiped his hand through the air dismissively. "I wouldn't waste my breath," he said. "I know the man's not going to fight even if the Saviors were pissing on his doorstep."

"Which they kind of are..." Rick said.

The two men chuckled, enjoying the ease of their conversation.

"You think he knows that's what this union's about?" Ezekiel asked. "Us gearing up to start a war?"

"I expect everyone knows that's what this union's about," Rick said. "Even the enemies. In fact, I'm counting on it." Ezekiel nodded. "And it's not us who started this," Rick continued. "They started it when they couldn't play nice like everybody else." Ezekiel nodded again. Rick was a man who spoke a lot of sense.

He studied the Southern man for a moment. "I want you to know," Ezekiel started. "Michonne is one of the people I value most in this world. She came to the Kingdom at a time when we needed her most and you know, it's like she belonged there. She came with a sword strapped across her back and ready to fight anybody who tried to harm her or her family." He chuckled and shook his head. "Boy, we had a hard time getting her to trust us when she first arrived. She had her guard up and she wasn't letting it down."

"Can you imagine? She showed up on _our_ doorstep and it was _us_ who needed to gain her trust."

"I can imagine," Rick said swirling the contents of his cup. A one-sided smile aided by the alcohol in his system graced his face.

"I'm sure you can," Ezekiel said, knowing Rick must be realizing at this point that Michonne was unlike any other woman he had probably ever met. "And if you hurt her..." he continued. "You'll have the whole Kingdom to deal with. She's ours. She's one of us. And we won't ever forget that."

Rick squinted out at his community and continued to swirl the contents of his cup. "Don't worry," he said. "I won't hurt her. But you're wrong. She's not yours anymore." His voice was low and his accent was heavy. "She's one of _us_ now. She's ours. She's mine." He stepped off of the raised platform on the side of the street and began to make his way back towards the refreshment table. "It was nice seein' you," he called back to the older man as he left.

Ezekiel took offense to his words at first but then he began to laugh. "She really is somethin'..." he muttered to himself as he watched Rick walk off, looking here and there for someone – Ezekiel had no trouble guessing who.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Michonne found Mike after what felt like an hour. The sun was beginning to set and homemade lanterns were beginning to be lit. Mike's back was to her as he pulled a cookie free of the batch that was sitting on a tray on a nearby table. Andre was being held in his arm looking at the cookie with unashamed greed. Michonne smiled when she saw them. And it was Andre who spotted her first.

"Mama!" he called, seeing her over Mike's shoulder.

Mike spun around as Michonne walked forward, trying to stamp down the desire to run to her little boy. But the smile spreading across her face couldn't be stopped. She held her hands behind her back as she met Mike where he stood. Her eyes went from her son's face to his. He looked her up and down. Michonne was surprised to see that he wasn't wearing the look of irritation she had begun to expect from him since a while ago. He looked slightly put-out.

"You look good," Mike said softly. Andre reached out for Michonne and she longed to take him.

"Thank you," Michonne replied. When Andre continued to reach for her, she and Mike shared a look. "...Can I?" she asked, reaching out hesitantly.

Mike handed Andre to Michonne and a wide smile spread across her face. "Ohh!" she said as his weight filled her arms. "You're getting heavy! You're starting to get too big for me to carry you."

Andre laughed. "Carry me, mama! Carry me!"

"I keep trying to get him to walk everywhere, but he wants to be carried," Mike said with a sad, resigned smile as he watched the two of them. "He acts like he's still two-years-old."

"I'm not two-years-old!" Andre shouted.

Michonne laughed. "You're not," she said. "You're four-years-old so shouldn't you be a big boy and walk to where you want to go? Instead of being carried?"

Andre seemed to consider it for a moment then shook his head. "No! I want to be carried!" He threw his arms around Michonne's shoulders and laid his head down. His soft curls brushed her cheek.

Michonne laughed again and she was surprised to see that Mike was chuckling as well. When their eyes met, a tense atmosphere settled over them. "I'm honestly surprised to see you here," Michonne said quietly to Mike. "I wasn't expecting you to come."

"I wasn't planning on it," Mike responded. "Guess I just had to see it for myself..."

Michonne looked down at the asphalt of the street. She honestly didn't know what Mike was to her anymore but she felt a slight - Embarrassment? Confusion? Shame? - at getting married to someone else right in front of her eyes. They had been through so much together. Even before the apocalypse. And all of that was coming back to her now as she stood in front of him.

"Is it good here?" Mike asked.

Michonne smiled. Mike had never been good with his words. In his own way, he was asking her if this place was safe. If she was being treated well. And if she was happy here. "It's good," she said. Mike shifted on his feet.

"I'm happy for you," he said. And she knew he was, but she also saw sadness in his eyes.

"...It's not home though," she admitted.

A long moment passed wherein Mike and Michonne merely looked at each other. And Michonne knew that Mike was remembering their days long past just as she was. He stepped closer to her. He was dressed in a form-fitting black shirt that showed off his physique and black pants. "Do you want to dance?" Mike asked.

Michonne's heart stuttered. She had been waiting such a long time for Mike to look at her like he used to. To offer a hand to invite her back into their little family. She was slightly surprised that it was happening now. She hadn't been expecting it. He had been so angry when she left...

"Dance, Mama," Andre repeated. It seemed as if he was close to drifting off to sleep.

Michonne chuckled. "What am I supposed to do with _him_?" she asked Mike, wondering how she could dance with a child in her arms.

"I'm sure we can work around him," Mike said. He lightly touched Michonne's upper arm, asking her with body language if he could lead her to the area where all of the couples were dancing.

Michonne smiled and nodded. She walked beside Mike and with Andre in her arms. For the first time in a long time, everything felt right again.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

As darkness descended further, Rick's ire grew. 'Where the fuck is she?' he wondered. He squished the empty cup he held in his hand from his fourth cup of liquor and he threw it into the nearby trashcan.

He spotted Sasha, Daryl, Glenn, Maggie, Tara, and Abraham over in a nearby cluster talking and laughing amongst themselves. He made his way over to them. "Hey," he greeted as he neared them. A small smile came to his lips. It had been a while since he had shared time with the people who had been with him since the beginning. Time that didn't involve business, running the town, or defense tactics that is. He looked around at them. "What's going on?"

The light chatter and easy laughter from before stopped and the atmosphere changed noticeably. Rick's small smile faltered.

"Hey," they greeted back.

"Hey." "Nothing much." "Same old." "Hey."

"...Hey."

Tara's weak response came after everyone else's and it hung in the air for a long moment.

"...This party's pretty cool..." Glenn offered after the long moment of silence.

"Yeah, yeah it is." Rick looked around at the people in the circle and realized they no longer knew how to talk to him. And he no longer knew how to talk to them. A lonely ache filled his chest.

"Oh!" Maggie said.

Everyone looked at her expectantly.

"Haley's gotten to be a great shot! We think we can use her in the sniper tower now!"

"Oh yeah!" Sasha agreed.

Rick nodded. Talk of defense became the topic of discussion. Rick agreed with their decisions and soon extricated himself from the group. He no longer felt like he was a part of it.

He made his way toward the stage that he had gotten married on that evening to wait for Michonne when he realized he didn't have to wait. She was already at the venue again, but she wasn't waiting for him. He didn't even seem to be on her mind. She was dancing closely with a handsome African American man in the same spot they had danced earlier. A little boy whom he assumed to be her son was clinging to her side. It was a touching image of a family reunited.

Rage filled Rick's chest. Rage at the loneliness he felt. Rage at the perfect family he saw in front of him. Rage at Michonne breaking her promise to come back to him.

He stalked towards them, keeping his rage under a cool surface. This was still his community and he was still the leader. He wasn't going to embarrass himself by making a scene. But he sure as hell was going to break this up.

He stopped once he was near enough to them and he gripped Michonne's arm in his hand, gently pulling her away from the man she was dancing with.

Neither Michonne nor Mike knew he was there until he had done so.

Michonne felt as if she had been woken from a trance. "Rick," she said, surprised.

'Oh, she still remembers my name,' Rick thought sarcastically. He turned to the man who was dancing with his wife and held out his hand. "Hi," he said. "Rick Grimes."

Mike met Rick's gaze and the other man seemed to stand taller in order to match Rick's height. "Mike," the man said, taking Rick's hand. "And I know who you are. You just married the mother of my child." His tone was hard.

Rick raised an eyebrow, offended by this man even responding to him, and he glanced back at Michonne and the young boy. Michonne tensed. She remembered the last man who had done _less_ to offend Rick Grimes had wound up with a bullet in his head. "Oh, is this him?" Rick asked Michonne. He stroked Andre's head, who was now asleep. "This is your son?"

"Yeah," Michonne replied. She swiped Rick's hand away. The muscles in Rick's jaw clenched and his gaze hardened when he looked at her. But he turned his anger back towards Mike.

"Why is Andre living with you and not his mother?"

"Excuse me?"

"My wife seems to miss him a lot. I'm wondering if it wouldn't be better to bring him to live with us."

Mike shifted on his feet and balled his fists at his side. Michonne rolled her eyes. She couldn't just stand here and watch this pissing contest. "Rick, it's none of your business what _we_ decide to do with _our_ child. Yes, I miss him, but Mike can provide a stable home for him right now. I can't." She gently lifted Andre off of her side and handed him back to Mike. "Here you go, Mike."

Mike took him and Andre only woke up for a moment, burrowed into his new sleeping space groggily, and then went back to sleep.

The muscles in Rick's jaw continued to jump as he clenched his teeth together.

"When are you planning on leaving?" Michonne asked. "I know some are planning on staying for a few days."

"Well," Mike said, raising his head to meet Rick's eyes. "I actually think that Rick might be right." His glance slid to Michonne. "Andre asks for you every day and...I know I haven't been welcoming to you lately, but it seems wrong for you to be all the way in this town while we're in another one. We've been through everything together since the beginning and it just don't feel right to not have you at least nearby."

He stared defiantly at Rick again. "So I was thinkin' of moving here. That's if you have room, that is."

Rick clenched his hand into a fist at his side. He didn't know what it was about this man that rubbed him so wrong, but he didn't like him at all. He looked at Michonne and saw the happiness in her eyes at the prospect of living in the same community as her son once again. Rick knew he would be succeeding in getting her to hate him forever if he refused. He just wished Mike wasn't in the picture.

He turned to the other man. "You can stay here for as long as you want," Rick said.

Unable to contain her joy, Michonne ran forward and hugged Andre and Mike. She had feared that she had ruined her chances at being a present mother but now it seemed she was getting a second chance.

Rick fumed as he watched the three of them embrace.


	7. Chapter 7

\- Right after promising to try two updates in a week on this fic I gave you guys the longest wait yet on this particular story. Sorry. It shouldn't happen again. -

Recap of previous chapter: Rick and Michonne got married. They danced.

Michonne then went to find Mike and Andre who she admitted she saw at the celebration. While she went to find them, Rick had a chat with Ezekiel wherein he left with the parting words that Michonne was his. She no longer was a citizen of The Kingdom.

Mike and Michonne shared a dance with their son that made Rick feel bitter. He and Mike had a tense first meeting which ended in Mike requesting permanent residence at Alexandria Safe Zone. In front of Michonne, Rick had to agree. But he didn't like it.

Chapter Seven: Life Has a Way of Surprising You

The celebration at the Alexandria Safe Zone was still very much underway. The darkened streets were now lit by paper lanterns and candles. From somewhere a short distance away, Rick could smell the succulent scent of roasting meat. He heard the clink of glasses as a party nearby gave cheers to some unknown comment. No thoughts of rationing or the new threat was on anybody's mind. Tonight was about celebration and only celebration. Troubles could wait until tomorrow.

Rick's eyes found Michonne just as she was saying goodbye to her family. Sending them off to the guest homes set aside for the visiting parties until a new, permanent home was assigned to them. He watched her linger at her son's side with adoration in her eyes and knew it must only be because the little boy was now fully asleep with his mouth hanging open that she was even sending them off now. If the boy didn't need the rest, she probably would spend all night with him.

Rick squinted when Mike bent down to place a soft goodbye kiss against Michonne's temple. She seemed surprised as well because she took a step back and then released a shy chuckle.

When Mike disappeared into the crowd with Andre, Michonne looking after them, Rick walked over to her side. He only got her attention again when he took her hand and led her back to the dance floor. Soft music was still wafting over the crowd's chatter that had grown louder as the night went on.

Michonne allowed Rick to lead her to an empty spot amongst swaying couples and position them for another dance. She was still happy from the realization of knowing her family would now be here with her so she looked up at Rick with a small smile. Even her annoyance with his past actions couldn't put a damper on how content she felt.

Rick was surprised to see her smile. It was a far cry from the scowl she usually turned in his direction.

"I never thought I would be ignored at my own wedding," Rick said, his voice a low growl. He squinted his eyes. A flash of Lori in her white wedding gown crossed his mind's eye. They had been joined at the hip throughout their entire wedding ceremony and in the days after.

Michonne's lips turned up further into an indulgent smile. "I'm not ignoring you," she replied.

"Well..." Rick raised his watch to eye level. "I've been alone for the past...two hours. Feels like being ignored to me..."

"That's funny," Michonne teased dryly. "I didn't know you were so sensitive. How about this? Next time we get married I won't leave you alone for two hours."

A genuine smile flashed across Rick's lips. "Very funny."

The bells hanging at the end of Michonne's locs brushed against Rick's hand where it lay against her back. He let his thumb stroke upwards. The tinkling jingle of bells followed.

Rick stared down at Michonne, his new wife, and really thought about the implications of that. He had agreed to this marriage with his community in mind. But he hadn't thought of what this meant for him as an individual. He had just gotten married. This woman was going to be with him for the rest of his life. Living in his home.

Thoughts of Lori flashed across his mind. He didn't notice that he had stopped moving to the music.

"What's wrong?" Michonne asked, bringing him back to the present.

"Oh...nothing..." He began to dance again. The smell of meat filled his nostrils once more. "You're going to have a tough time on your hands re-distributing the rations after the celebrations are over."

"I can handle it," Michonne responded. "Beats the alternative."

A long silence fell over the dancing couple. Rick let his hand brush against the bells again to create another soft jingle. He remembered the way Michonne looked at him before. With understanding. And the last few hours spent alone at a celebration in his honor weighed on him. He felt the need to explain a few things to the woman in front of him. "...It wasn't always like this," Rick said.

Michonne met his eyes in the flickering candlelight of the streets. His gaze was still so blue, even under the darkness of the night. She waited for him to continue. To elaborate on what he was talking about.

" _I_ wasn't always like this." It was the best he could do for now.

"None of us were," Michonne responded. "We all changed when the world did. We had to. All we can do now is draw a line at the necessary and the unnecessary. And some of the things you do are unnecessary."

Rick was both taken aback and intrigued by her blunt words. "You just say whatever you want to, don't you?"

"I say what needs to be said."

"Hmm..." Rick said with a sigh through his nose. "Well, this is going to be interesting."

"What?"

"Our marriage life. How are we going to live together when my wife doesn't even like me?"

A twitch of a smile threatened to pass Michonne's lips once more. "There you go being sensitive again," she said. "Besides, you don't like me either. You said it yourself."

"I said I don't _know_ if I like you," Rick corrected. "There's a big difference."

"Not really."

"There is. The jury's still out on it for me. You made the decision to dislike me before you even laid eyes on me."

Michonne chuckled. "Are you really trying to play the victim here?" she asked.

"Just stating the truth," Rick said with a shrug.

"No, the truth is I have good reason to dislike you," Michonne chided. "How's that for saying what I want."

Rick sucked air between his teeth and pretended to think about it for a moment. "It's refreshing. Most of the people here don't even tell me what they think anymore." A scowl touched his brow as he thought of the failed conversation he had tried to have with people he once would have called friends.

"Can you blame them?" Michonne asked. "You said it yourself. You're not the leader you used to be."

Rick stopped dancing again. "I still do everything I can to protect my people," he said, staring down at Michonne. " _That_ hasn't changed."

Michonne nudged him to start moving again. "I didn't say it had. I'm just saying you're probably not as personable as you used to be." Rick moved through the next steps of a simple box dance.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rick asked.

"Well..." Michonne explained. "You've killed two men in the streets without giving your people so much as an explanation." She raised an eyebrow. "If I didn't have to, _I_ wouldn't talk to you either."

"Is that what they need? An _explanation_?" Rick snarled the last word between his teeth.

"It would help..." Michonne said.

Rick was silent for a moment as he considered it. "...I can schedule a meeting for next week," he finally said.

Michonne nodded. "That would be good," she said. She was estimating the wedding celebration to be a week-long affair so the week after should be as good a time as any. "We can also use that moment to recruit more people in the run to find the Saviors' base camp. We don't know how many of them there are and they seemed to know the area pretty well. We could easily be ambushed if we're not careful. Whose good for a mission like this?"

"I'll handle it," Rick said. "Don't worry." On missions like this, he liked to keep a balanced number of capable warriors both inside and outside the walls. To do that, he had to sit down and look at the roster of people in his community.

"If it's manageable, I'd like Sasha and Daryl to come along with me," Michonne said. "I'm already slightly familiar with them and they seem capable."

Rick studied Michonne closely. "Anybody else?"

"Not that I can think of at the moment..."

"Would you like Mike to go with you?" he asked, sure that she would jump on the chance to go on an outside mission with her ex-lover.

"Oh, no," Michonne surprised him by saying with a shake of her head. "Mike doesn't go on runs outside. He prefers to stay inside and help where he can there."

Rick's brows raised. "Okay," he said. "So where would be a good place to put him? Pantry? Wall duty? Construction? Everyone has to pull their weight in some way. And everyone has to learn how to defend themselves. Sasha teaches target practice Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays. Hand-to-hand combat is taught by Paul Monroe every other day. There's a schedule posted on the bulletin board in the infirmary. You should take one and give it to him the next time you see him."

"Okay," Michonne said. She glanced around, a sudden thought coming to her. "Do you have a school system set up here?" she asked. "We had a rudimentary one at the Kingdom."

"We do," Rick said. "Mrs. Niedermeyer teaches reading and writing to kids about your son's age on weekdays from noon to three."

Michonne nodded. "Good."

The bells brushed against Rick's hand again.

"Whose idea was it to put these bells in your hair?" he asked.

"Maggie's. She said they were good luck."

"Ahh..." Rick wrapped the end of a ribbon around his finger and tugged gently.

"What are you doing?" Michonne asked.

Rick gently pulled her closer to his chest. "It's odd..." he said.

"What is?"

He pulled her closer still. When she didn't pull away, he pulled her against his chest and wrapped his arm completely around her waist. Michonne stared up at him curiously. "...I don't think you dislike me as much as you pretend," Rick said, his voice a low whisper.

"Why do you say that?" Michonne asked, unshaken.

"Well, for one, you're here talking to me," Rick said. "Two...you're here dancing with me. And three...you haven't scowled at me all day today. Not even when I pulled your hair." He did it again for good measure.

"I'm in a good mood," Michonne said pulling her ponytail over her shoulder and away from Rick's hand. "Besides...We should at least try to keep up appearances. Even if this is just a political marriage, we should make it seem real to everybody but us. That way, looking from the outside, we won't have an obvious weakness in our plan of unification."

"Does that include Mike?" Rick asked. "Keeping up appearances?"

"Of course," Michonne said, her expression hard. "We're not together anymore. I think that's clear to both of us now."

Rick nodded. "It didn't seem that way judging from tonight."

"What do you mean?"

"You two were dancing just as close as we are now," Rick said. "And you had a child in your arms. It was a touching sight." A hint of bitterness tainted his voice. This time Michonne was the one to stop dancing and she took a step back.

"I was welcoming my family home," she said. "I won't explain or apologize for that."

"And you shouldn't," Rick said. "We're nothing to each other but a truce agreement. You've made that clear. But since you're the one who mentioned keeping up appearances, I just want to clarify that _Mike's_ not your partner anymore. I am. You don't side with him, you side with _me_. You don't agree with him, you agree with _me._ And the sooner you realize that, the easier it will be for all of us."

"It doesn't work like that," Michonne said. "I side with what's right."

Rick nodded. "Okay." He glanced around, feeling suddenly crowded by the amount of people. "I think it's time we call it a day," he said. "And head home." He wanted to talk to Michonne in private.

"I want to go greet Ezekiel," Michonne said. "You can go on ahead. I'll meet you there." Her expression was closed off. She was annoyed with him again. Rick sighed and watched her turn and make her way towards the man sitting on a slightly raised platform off to the side and under an awning.

Rick clenched his teeth together. He was being left alone once again.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Michonne was met with a wide smile when she met Ezekiel where he sat.

"Are you enjoying yourself so far?" she asked as she bent down to give him a quick hug.

"I am," Ezekiel said, his eyes sparkling. "This place is grand. How are things for you? You're not homesick, are you?"

"I was...but maybe that will change now that Mike and Andre are here."

"I see that you found them a little while ago." Ezekiel clasped her slender hand between his two large ones. "I'm happy for you. It'll warm my heart if you say you'll miss me a little bit though."

Michonne smiled. "Of course I will," she responded. "I _do_."

Ezekiel smiled wider. "That's good to hear. Rick is good to you, isn't he?"

"He's as good as he can be," Michonne said with a nod.

Ezekiel took note of the indirect way in which she answered. "Is he a good leader?"

Michonne looked out over the crowd at Rick. He was staring up at her from where he stood with his hands on his hips. His eyes were squinted in frustration. "I can't lie and say he's perfect," she said. "This world has done a number on him." She fiddled with the bell lying against her chest, remembering the gentle, playful way he had pulled her hair. "I don't think he's too far gone though..."

"Mm..." Ezekiel said, studying Rick from where he sat as well. "I trust your judgment so if you don't think he's anything to worry about...I think so as well."

He grabbed her hand, pulling her attention back to him. "What about you?" he asked. "Do you think you can be happy here? Can this be your home?"

Michonne nodded. "Wherever Andre is...that's my home..." She squeezed Ezekiel's hand and gave him a questioning look. "It is okay that they stay here right? Mike and Andre?"

"Yes," Ezekiel said. "I was planning on sending them this way anyway if Mike hadn't made the decision on his own."

"Did he already talk to you about staying here?" Michonne asked curiously. "Before coming?"

"No...but I knew the minute he volunteered to come to the wedding that once he saw you, he would want to stay." Ezekiel looked her over in her beautiful purple gown. "And I have to say, I'm not surprised. You look beautiful."

Michonne smiled again. "Thank you," she said. "But I'm sure it's not because of any residual feelings that Mike decided to stay...He just knows that we're a family and families should stick together. Especially in this world."

"...Possibly..." Ezekiel said with a non-committal shrug.

Michonne looked back over the crowd but no longer saw Rick among the throng of people. 'He must have headed home,' she thought. She turned back to Ezekiel.

"I'll probably be heading out sometime next week to try to find the Saviors' base camp," Michonne said. "A group of us will be going."

"That sounds like a good idea. I was thinking about sending my own party."

"We'll send someone to report back to you what we find as well. It should be no problem."

Ezekiel nodded. "Please do. That way we can at least know where an attack may be coming from. Last time we were surrounded. It seems like they have a lot of people."

"Was it over a hundred?"

"That's what we've heard," Ezekiel said with another nod. "You should be careful. You and your people. We don't know what to expect with them just yet."

"I don't know how they got so close to us with motorcycles," Michonne mused, almost to herself.

"Be extra cautious," Ezekiel advised again.

"We will."

Ezekiel continued to hold Michonne's hand and smiled up at her. "I miss you, Michonne," he said sincerely.

Michonne smiled back. "I miss you too."

"See if you can visit sometime."

"I will..."

Michonne gave Ezekiel a farewell hug and made her way back down from the raised platform onto the street. This was her second time saying goodbye to the man who had given her her first sanctuary. And it wasn't getting any easier. At least this time she knew that he would be there for a few days more.

000000000000000000000000000000000000

"Where is it?" Rick asked, hurrying toward the wall he had just now been informed had a weakening structure. He stopped at the instructed wall and could definitely notice a dent in it.

"Yeah," Tobin said, running up beside him. "I just kicked it as I was walking by and it dented in like that. I think it's rusting. We need to start construction with new materials."

Rick nodded. "I had planned on that anyway but I thought we'd have a little more time to gather the materials." He looked over to see Nicholas on his other side. "You two should notify Abraham immediately. Tell him to meet me tomorrow at-"

Rick was cut off when a hard object impacted his head. Pain shot through his skull before darkness overtook him and he fell to his knees, unconscious.

Riff stood over him with a lead pipe, breathing heavily. He looked between Tobin and Nicholas and they all shared a nod.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000

Rick awoke a few moments later with a throbbing pain in his head and darkness instead of vision. The feeling of tight constriction around his eyes and his head let him know that he was wearing some kind of fabric blindfold. A piece of fabric was also tied tight across his mouth. He twisted his wrists to feel that he was bound by some intricately knotted rope. Any movement invited painful friction. The ropes were bound tight.

Blood pumped angrily through his veins as his last moments came back to him.

Riff. Tobin. And Nicholas.

He grew still and listened as voices reached his ears. They only seemed to be a few feet away.

"Do you think this is a good idea? To do it at this time?" Nicholas asked. "During his wedding? Won't people miss him?"

"Now is the perfect time," Tobin said. "It's busy. People are celebrating. No one will suspect it. And do you really think anyone will miss him if they _do_ realize he's gone? They'll only celebrate harder."

Rick gritted his teeth and twisted his wrists again, trying to see if there was any way he could get loose. He moved his leg slightly, imperceptibly, to check the weight of his holster. It was empty. They had taken his gun. He worked his wrists harder. That didn't matter. He would kill them without it.

"That's probably true," Nicholas said with a nervous laugh. "What about his new wife? That...Michonne? Won't she realize he's missing soon enough? I mean...she _will_ be expecting a wedding night."

"Hell, I'll show up and give her one," Riff's gruff voice chimed in. "This asshole fucked my wife; I might as well fuck his."

Rick's fists clenched and he pulled harder against the ropes even as they cut into his skin. Images of all of the ways he would kill these men sifted through his head. Wrapping the same rope that was currently around his wrists around Riff's neck until his eyes popped was top of the list.

"No!" a new, deep voice interjected. It made Rick's heart freeze and the rest of his body too. "We're not involving anyone else in this. This is just about Rick. He's our target. Focus on that."

Nicholas's nervous laughter stopped. "Sure thing, Abraham."

'Abraham...' Rick's stomach clenched. They had fought side by side together. They had built this place together. Abraham was in his inner circle. Or at least he used to be. 'Who am I kidding? I don't know any of them anymore,' Rick thought. He wondered who else's voice he might hear. Daryl's? Maggie's? Sasha's? These people weren't his friends. Not anymore. Not only was he alone but he was the enemy. Rick's hands went slack. He stopped moving. He stopped struggling. His head fell and he only waited. Waited for their next move.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Michonne walked into the home that was now hers as well and was surprised to find that it was completely dark inside. 'Did he just go straight to bed?' she wondered.

"Rick?" she called. "Rick, you here?"

When she got no response, she continued to make her way inside and cut on the lights of the living room. She looked around and got a familiar tugging sensation in her gut. The one that always told her something was wrong.

'Is he being sensitive again?' Michonne wondered. She carefully took off her shoes and then headed up the stairs, the fabric of her dress brushing lightly against her skin and the bells of her hair tinkling with every step. "...Rick?" she called again when she reached the top of the stairs.

She looked towards his room. The door was closed and it didn't open. There was no movement inside. 'He's probably just ignoring me,' she thought. 'He didn't seem too happy when I left him again.' She headed towards her bedroom at the other end of the hall but stopped mid-reach for the doorknob. 'Did he bring home some woman even after our talk at the wedding?'

Without thinking much more about it, she whipped around and went to Rick's room. "Rick!" she called. She knocked loudly on his door and when she got no response, she threw it open. "Ric-..."

He wasn't in there. The room was empty and untouched. That feeling in Michonne's gut grew. She knew never to completely ignore it.

She turned on her heel and made her way back down the stairs, grabbing her katana as she made her way out of the door. 'Maybe I just lost him in the crowd,' she thought as she left the house. 'I hope so.'


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: A Singular Plan

Michonne slipped through the crowd of the festival with the sword on her back and still in her wedding dress. She craned her neck here and there, looking for some sign of Rick. "Hey," she said, stopping a random passerby. "Have you seen Rick?" The stranger shook his head and she kept going, asking the next person. She kept getting the same reply, a shake of the head with a slightly confused look. When she had gone through about seven people and gotten the same response, she began to feel tense and nervous. Her gut clenched, telling her to take notice.

"Daryl," Michonne called, taking notice of the crossbow wielding guard. She made her way towards him as he took notice of her. He was finishing off some snack crackers nestled on a small plate in his hand. "Have you seen Rick?" she asked when she approached. Sasha looked curiously on, as she had been conversing with the archer before the interruption.

"No," Daryl answered, licking the remnants of food residue off of his fingers. "Somethin' wrong?" He stared at her questioningly, taking note of the sword on her back.

"I don't know," Michonne answered truthfully. "I just can't find Rick all of a sudden..."

"He's probably around here somewhere," Sasha offered. "You probably just lost him in the crowd."

"Probably..." Michonne muttered. "I'll keep looking for him."

"You want us to help?" Daryl asked.

"No," Michonne replied back, making her way back into the crowd. "I'm sure I'll find him."

As time passed though, her surety began to fade.

"Hey," she said, stopping a young man with curly brown hair as he made his way past her. Her eyes were intent and focused now. She was feeling more urgent as time went on. "Have you seen Rick Grimes?"

"Rick?" the young man asked. A flash of remembrance ran across his face and Michonne felt hopeful for the first time in half an hour. "Yeah, I saw Tobin leading him off somewhere a while ago..." he said.

"Tobin? Who's Tobin?"

"Uhh...He's about this tall..." the young man gestured somewhere above his own head. "Part of the construction crew...lives near-"

Michonne shook her head, realizing she didn't need this information. It was just a waste of time. "Never mind. Did you see where they went?"

"Yeah, they headed off in the direction of the front gate..." the man said, his speech lazy. Not equal to the urgency Michonne was feeling.

"Thank you," Michonne responded, heading off in the direction he pointed her towards before he could finish properly.

It didn't take long for Michonne to reach the gates at the front of the ASZ. The feeling of foreboding she felt came as a surprise. She was sure that she was getting suspicious and overreacting to nothing. But when she saw the convergence of multiple footsteps in the sand and a small speckle of dark red, the feeling of foreboding she felt became more justified.

"Shit," she curse silently, rising to her feet after having crouched to get a closer look at what she suspected might be blood. "Rick, what's happened?"

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

The blindfold was yanked off of Rick's eyes and he grunted, squinting against the ghosting pain that lingered due to the blindfold being tied too tightly.

Rick opened his eyes and blinked into the dimly lit room. Thick hands untied the gag across his mouth and yanked it free roughly, causing curls of his neatly styled hair to fall loose and into his face. Riff and Tobin stood to the side. Abraham stood directly in front of Rick. Rick's eyes landed on Abraham's chest. He didn't need to look up into the face of his traitor. He didn't want to.

Through his peripheral vision, Rick could make out that he was being held in a warehouse they were currently clearing out to use as a weaponry. It was vast and empty, only a few shelves lined the walls. The emptiness allowed for echoes with the raising of a voice, but Rick knew that no one would hear anything. The noise of the celebration outside was floating through the windows high up near the ceiling even now. No one even knew that he was missing.

"Well," Abraham said, pulling a chair forward and taking a seat in front of Rick. His face fell into Rick's eyeline. "I have to admit this is kind of awkward." He laid the automatic rifle he held across his lap.

Nicholas stood behind Abraham with his hands on his belt. He wore a smug and secure expression.

Conscious of his pride, Rick sat back in his chair and stared Abraham in the eye.

"I didn't want things to turn out this way..." Abraham said. "But I didn't have much of a choice, did I?"

Rick's eyes moved around the warehouse. Looking for anyone else that might be in there. He wished he could feel relief that he didn't see anyone else that he had considered a friend before in there looking down at him as he sat tied to a chair, but he couldn't. If Abraham was in on it, did that mean Rosita knew? Did she care? Did anyone?

"And why is that?" Rick asked, massaging his tongue against his teeth. He kept an air of nonchalance.

Abraham stared at Rick, his face hard and unsympathetic. He had made a decision. He had started on an operative and he was going to finish it. "We've all seen how you've been changing, Rick." Abraham's voice was a deep gravel. "You're losing it. You got us to where we are now so this is really hurting me, but you've long since started to become a man that none of us recognize. You're becoming colder and colder by the day. You're screwing women just to screw 'em. You're no longer a good leader, Rick. You're a tyrant."

His son, when he was four years old, looked up at him and said, 'You're big, daddy! Will I be as big as you one day?' A singular chuckle left Rick's lips at the memory. Abraham just continued to stare at him – a compatriot bringing a reckoning. "So..." Rick said. "You think you would be a better leader? Is that it?"

"Quite frankly..." Abraham's stare was steady. Unamused. Matter-of-fact. "Yes, I do."

'Baby, if anything happens to you, I don't know what we would do. We would be lost.' Lori snuggled against Rick's side in the haze of his memory.

"So you're going to kill me? Is that the plan?"

Abraham glanced around at his partners in this endeavor. Riff and Tobin. He could see in their eyes that they wouldn't mind doing that very thing. Tobin out of a feeling of necessity and Riff just for pleasure. He looked back to Rick. "I'd rather not," he said. "But I will if I have to."

'That Missing Person's Report is really eating at you, isn't it sweetie?'

'How can it not? It's a kid, Lori.'

'I know, baby.'

'We're not finding anything. The chief is going to pull resources soon. Call it quits.'

'Dad, would you ever stop looking for me if I went missing?'

'No, Carl, never.'

Rick smirked. "What are the alternatives?" he asked. "Jail? Exile?"

Abraham shrugged his large shoulders. "It's up to you."

Rick chuckled, unable to believe Abraham's gall. "I'm not going anywhere," he said, his voice low. The people in the room almost had to strain to hear it. "The only way you'll get me to leave this place is to put a bullet through my brain."

"That can be arranged," Riff said from the side.

Rick glanced over at him.

"What?" Riff asked, slighted by his look. "You're not feeling so powerful now, are ya? Not feelin' like much of a man?" He leaned forward, his breath hitting Rick's face as he taunted him from the side. "If it were up to me, I'd rip your fingernails off one by one. Did you enjoy it? Did you enjoy fuckin' my wife?" His breath had a slightly sour smell to it as it hit Rick's nostrils.

"Riff," Abraham warned.

Clenching his teeth together, Rick tested his bindings again. "Oh yeah...the redhead..." he said. "She was very passionate."

A hard blow landed across Rick's cheek and he felt blood pool at the corner of his mouth where his lip had been split open.

"Riff!" Abraham warned again. "Tobin, get him."

Tobin went over to restrain a fuming Riff.

"Why don't you two go guard the front?" Abraham said. "I got it from here."

Tobin and Riff left the warehouse to go stand watch outside, Riff being somewhat dragged off by the other man.

Abraham sighed through his nose when they were gone and Nicholas took up the position beside Rick. Watching as Rick's tongue darted out to lick the blood from his wound, Abraham shook his head. He would have never thought that things would come to this. He remembered Rick when he first met him. He had drive. He had purpose. He had been a man looking forward to something to come. What he was looking at now was just a shell of man. Someone who used to be. "Why, Rick?" Abraham asked. He couldn't understand it. "Why?"

"We've been through a shit ton of shit. And I just don't see why you would add to that pile o' shit with the things that you're doin'."

Rick drew his tongue slowly against the inside of his now sore cheek. He was checking to see if he could taste any blood there. He didn't respond to Abraham's question. Instead he asked, "Does Rosita know that you're doing this?"

Abraham's stare hardened. "Leave Rosita out of this."

"I'm just curious if she knows," Rick responded with a shrug of his shoulders. "I wanna know how many people are in on this – what...this takeover?"

"She doesn't know about it." Abraham stood up from his chair. "But even if she did, I doubt she'd show much sympathy for you. You've alienated people, Rick. Pushed people away. We no longer know what kind of man you are. You seem to be becoming the type of man we've been fighting against for the past two years."

"Who is 'we'?" Rick asked. "Rosita? Glenn? Carol? Daryl? Sasha?"

"All of us," Abraham responded. "We're all wary of the man you've become."

Rick's breathing grew heavy. He thought of Lori and Carl again. He had been searching for them for so long. With no avail. They were probably gone. This world had probably swallowed them whole. What was even the point? He inhaled a breath. "Kill me then."

"It doesn't have to be like that-"

"Oh, it does..."

Rick glared at Abraham. "You think I will just step aside and let you take what _I've_ worked for? What _I've_ built?" The timbre in his voice grew more passionate. "The only way you're going to stop me from getting out of this chair and putting a knife through your skull is by killing me first." Abraham's grip tightened on his gun. "If you let me live, I won't stop," Rick said staring into Abraham's eyes. "I won't stop coming after you until you and all the men here with you are dead."

His eyes grew fierce, wild, and hard. " _We_ are on the cusp of a _war_! I have done everything in my power to protect us! To keep this place safe! If you think you can do better, then be my guest. But I am _not_ just going to stand by and watch while you take everything from me!" It was in that moment that Rick realized that this community was all he had left.

He no longer had a family. He longer had friends. He only had the ASZ. What was he without that?

Abraham looked into Rick's eyes and knew that he was being truthful. He placed his hand on the hilt of the knife at his belt. He was truthful when he said he didn't want things to end like this, but he also wasn't the type of man to back away from what he felt needed to be done. "If that's the way it's gotta be..." he said, withdrawing the knife. The blade flashed in the rays of moonlight coming through the high windows.

He began to stalk forward and Rick watched him come with teeth gritted, ready to face death.

Before Rick could meet his end, the door of the warehouse swung open and Riff marched in with Tobin beside him. They each held Michonne by an elbow as they ushered her in between them. "Look who came asking about you!" Riff exclaimed happily, his face red with excitement. It looked very much like Christmas had come early for him.

Rick sat straighter in his seat, surprised to see Michonne in the room. Her eyes swept the space and landed on Rick. Her face didn't register any kind of surprise or fear toward the situation she had just walked in on. At most, she wore a frown of displeased curiosity. "What's going on here?" she asked.

With a gun at his side in one hand and his knife still poised at Rick, Abraham turned to Tobin and Riff with displeasure. "What is _she_ doing here?" his voice boomed.

Riff and Tobin glanced at each other, unprepared for Abraham to feel angered by this. They thought they had gotten a two-for-one deal.

"She came looking for Rick," Tobin said again as if that explained everything. "Someone said they saw him going off with me."

"Shit!" Abraham cursed. He hadn't wanted more people to get involved in this than there needed to be. And he certainly didn't want any unnecessary casualties. He had nothing against Michonne so he could see nothing good coming from her being dragged into this. "At least take her sword!" he said to the two men he was beginning to peg more and more as idiots.

Riff did so, pulling it clumsily from her shoulders as Tobin held his gun on her. Michonne held her hands out and allowed them to take the sword, her mind working silently.

She stared at Rick and he stared back. A squint of his eyes asked her what the hell she was doing. A slight shrug of her shoulders told him that she had no idea.

Abraham sheathed his knife once again and repositioned his gun in his arms, needing to rethink things. He took a couple of steps back as he mulled things over silently.

"I don't see a problem with bringing her here," Riff spoke up again. "We could make good use of her." He stared Michonne lecherously up and down.

Michonne lifted an eyebrow. She had to stop herself from making a face of disgust. She kept awareness on her sword, which Riff handed off to Tobin.

"No," Abraham said immediately. "There'll be none of that." He went over to a table in the back that held a length of rope. Coming back to Michonne, he stood in front of her and began to tie her hands together. "You should have never come here..." he said.

Michonne glanced over Abraham's shoulder at Rick.

"What was the plan here?" Michonne asked, the rope rubbing against her skin as her wrists were tied. "Get rid of Rick while everyone was distracted during the celebration. What happened when people started asking questions? Would you tell everyone that Rick just up and left?"

Rick shifted in his seat, more on edge since Michonne had entered the room. He wondered what in the hell she was playing at. She simply walked in and allowed herself to get disarmed. Now she was being tied up, soon to be just as handicapped by the situation as he was. What was the point of her walking in so foolishly like this? He knew she didn't give a damn about what happened to him so what was the point?

Abraham finished tying her up and pushed her toward Tobin. "Watch her," he instructed. Tobin held her sword in one hand and raised his gun to the side of her head with the other.

"Did you really think that would work?" Michonne continued. "That people would just accept the disappearance of their leader?"

Abraham chuckled. "You have a lot to learn, Missy," he said to Michonne. He hoisted his gun in front of himself once again and sucked in a breath, the expanse of his chest widening with the intake of air into his lungs. "I won't have to feed the people some cock-and-bull story. I'll just tell them the truth. 'I took care of Rick because he was a liability'. It's time that someone else was in charge. Someone who actually cares about his people."

"I _care_ about my people," Rick growled through gritted teeth.

"That may be so..." Abraham responded. "But you have an odd way of showing it...The people sure can't feel it anymore! Besides..." Abraham said, speaking to Michonne again. "The plan wasn't to initially kill him. I was going to let him go quietly. But your husband here seems to have a death wish."

Michonne glanced at Rick and then glanced away.

"The truth is..." Abraham continued. "The people probably won't care that Rick is gone. Some of them may even celebrate." He looked down at Rick, remembering the man he used to be again and feeling pity. "That's a sorry thought, but it's the damn truth."

Rick felt a flush of shame to be at the mercy of men while Michonne stood there watching.

"The problem, though, is you," Abraham said. "I don't wanna have to kill you...but I'm trying hard to think of another alternative. I can't."

The gun that Tobin held to her head cocked as the hammer was pulled back.

Michonne kept a calm composure. "You can't kill me," she stated.

Everyone in the room stared at her. "And why is that?" Abraham asked.

"My people – all of The Kingdom – is at the ASZ right now," Michonne answered. "Killing me would start an immediate war. And unlike Rick, they know that I'm gone. Once I noticed the blood at the front gate, I made sure to tell Ezekiel that something strange was going on. And that if I'm not back at the celebration in half an hour, that he should gather all of the fighters of The Kingdom and start to kill people in the streets."

There was a long moment of silence. Riff, Tobin, and Nicholas looked around at each other while shifting on their feet. Ire began to rise in Abraham's chest. Rick stared at Michonne, trying to tell if she was bluffing or not. But she wasn't looking at him so he found her hard to read.

"You're lying," Abraham said.

"I'm not. And even if the ASZ were to take care of the Kingdom, you would still have the Saviors to deal with. And that battle...you would lose."

There was silence in the warehouse again.

"Face it," Michonne said, her voice hard. "Your plan's ruined. It was ruined from the moment I stepped through those doors. And if you're to kill Rick and leave me alive, it's still over. I would call the alliance off so fast your head would spin and there would still be war."

Rick's heart pounded as Abraham weighed his options.

"Are you really willing to put your family and friends through two wars with no allies? You're sure to lose."

Abraham began to chuckle. And then he began to laugh. "So what do you suggest?" he asked. "I just untie you both, we shake hands, say 'maybe next time', and call it a day?"

"I suggest you make a decision quick," Michonne said. "I've been gone for twenty minutes. Ezekiel will start wondering where I am soon."

Abe mulled things over, frustration clear in the twitch of his mustache.

"Abe, what are you doing?" Riff asked. "Let's just kill 'em both! We can think about how to handle things later!"

"No..." Abe answered. "She's right."

"FUCK!" Abe kicked out at the chair he had previously been sitting in, causing it to slide backwards across the floor. "She's right." He took deep breaths, breathing in and out through his nose. He couldn't kill either one of them without breaking the alliance and putting everyone in a vulnerable position. He had chosen the wrong timing for all of this. "Fuck!" he cursed again.

Tobin looked back and forth from where he had his gun targeted at Michonne's head to Abraham. Abraham's loss of composure was causing him to become nervous. "We-we have to kill 'em," he said, backing Riff up. "We've already betrayed them; they're not gonna let us live."

Rick worked his wrists, trying to pull free of the ropes.

"We can't risk causing a war between The Kingdom and The ASZ," Abraham said.

"No one has to die," Michonne said. "Why don't all of you go to the Hilltop while we figure something out? You can just leave. Just leave us tied up here and we won't follow behind you."

Abraham continued to breathe heavily as the anger of his failed plan coursed through his body, but he couldn't figure out a way out of this. He hoisted his gun in front of his chest, spread his shoulders, and then walked towards Michonne. He stopped in front of her and stared down at her for a moment before looking around at Nicholas, Riff, and Tobin. "Come on," he said. "Let's get out of here."

Riff scoffed. "You're kidding!"

"Let's go!" Abraham shouted. "Now!"

Tobin hesitated but he lowered the arm that held his gun and then he began to follow behind Abraham, who was heading towards the doors of the warehouse.

"Leave my sword," Michonne demanded. The weapon came clattering back to the floor at her feet.

Riff cursed and then followed behind his two partners in crime. Nicholas was the last to follow, looking scared and confused.

The door of the warehouse closed behind the men and Michonne and Rick was left in a silent and empty warehouse, wondering if that would really be it. Finally, Michonne moved. She went behind Rick and knelt down to untie his ropes. For the first time she realized how anxiously her heart was pounding.

Rick could barely believe that he was still alive. For a moment there, he really thought that this would be the day that he died. And no one would have cared.

"You should hurry back to the celebration," Rick said as Michonne worked at his bindings. "I don't want Ezekiel to start killing my people."

" _Our_ people," Michonne said. She released the ropes and Rick's hands fell free. "I gave Ezekiel no such order. He doesn't even know where I am. No one does."

Rick stared at Michonne as she rose to her feet. She stepped in front of him and held out her tied hands to him, asking for freedom in return. Rick began to untie her. "That was stupid," he said. "Coming here alone like that. With no plan."

"I had a plan," Michonne said. When Rick's eyes came up to meet hers she continued, "To find you and get you out of whatever mess you had caused yourself to be in." A small, slow smile spread across her lips.

Rick was taken aback by her smile and perplexed by her sincerity. "Didn't think you'd care," Rick said, trying to match her lightness. Failing. He really didn't think she'd care.

"We're a team," Michonne said as her ropes were loosened and they fell away from her hands. She held her hands out and helped Rick to stand up from his chair. He stared down at her almost as if she was something unreal. He broke his stare when she looked up to meet his eyes and he stepped away.

"We have to kill them..." he said.

He thought Michonne would argue him on the point but she only spoke a soft, "I know". She went to pick up her sword and settled it across her back as it had been when she came in. She swept her dreads out of the way of the strapping, causing the bells at the end of her locs to sing out. "That's the second time I've saved your ass, you know," she said to the still silent Rick.

"I know," Rick said, repeating her words back to her.

"Good," Michonne said with a short nod of her head.

Rick followed Michonne out of the warehouse. He felt a soft breeze on his skin. A small, every day thing that he had been so close to never feeling again. He felt an overwhelming sense of gratefulness that someone had come for him. That _she_ had come for him. Maybe he had a friend after all...

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

\- Should Abraham die or not? XD


	9. Chapter 9

Review: Rick and Michonne had just gotten married. Rick teased Michonne about the fact that she always claimed to hate him but doesn't act like it. They then had a small fight about Michonne's reunion with Mike. She left him alone to talk to Ezekiel.

Rick was kidnapped by Abe, Nicholas, Tobin, and Riff. Rick was disheartened when he found out that Abe was in charge of the kidnapping.

Michonne managed to find Rick just in time and got them both out of danger by reasoning with Abe, telling him that it would be foolish to kill both Rick and her when they were right on the cusp of an alliance with The Kingdom. Abe and the crew escape to Hilltop. Rick is convinced that they need to kill everyone involved.

 **Chapter 9: It's Better Now**

"We can't really go after them now," Michonne said, watching Rick carefully as he paced the span of the living room. His kidnapping had gotten to him more and more the closer they had gotten to home. Now he was spilling over with the need to do something. To make something happen. "There are obviously some people here who don't like the way you run things and they're not afraid to do something about it."

Rick stopped pacing and peered up at Michonne, his eyes flashing dangerously. He reminded her so much of a tiger she had seen at the zoo once. A caged animal eager to be set free. "You don't think those four were the only ones in on this?"

Michonne shrugged. "They may have been, but they're not the only ones who aren't happy with your leadership. How much longer until someone else tries to take matters into their own hands?"

Rick stepped closer to Michonne. "Have you heard something?" he asked.

"No, I haven't." Michonne took the sword off of her back and sat it to the side, leaning it against the side of the fireplace. Rick watched her do it. "But it's no secret that people are getting fed up with your leadership. Your people aren't connecting with you anymore."

"I don't need them to connect with me."

"You need _someone_ on your side, Rick. You can't keep alienating everyone."

"You're on my side."

The words were out of Rick's mouth before he had time to think about them or contemplate them. If he had time to think about it, he would have held onto the words because they showed vulnerability and need. He no longer wanted to show those sides of himself to anyone. He couldn't afford to.

"I am," Michonne said gently. "But only to the degree that you allow me to be." Fireworks exploded outside the windows of the Grimes residence, creating flashes of light that illuminated the house for seconds before it was doused in a lack of brightness again. The celebration was still going on – the residents of the Alexandria Safe Zone oblivious to the troubles that had gone on that night. "We're going to have to handle Rosita delicately," Michonne said, thinking ahead. "I'm assuming she cared about Abraham a lot since, from what I gathered, they were sleeping together. Not to mention Daryl, Sasha, Maggie and the rest of 'em. They all seem like a pretty tight knit group."

Rick ground his teeth together. The fact that Abraham was a part of the group – hell, the _leader_ of the group – that had held him hostage stung him greatly. "We should interrogate them all," he said. "Maybe even question everyone in Alexandria."

Michonne shook her head. "I don't think that would go over well. They're good people; they don't need to be treated like criminals."

"They're supposed to be my _friends_ ," Rick growled. "They're supposed to be with me on this! We have a war to fight for Christ's sakes! I can't spend time looking over my shoulder, waiting for attacks from my own people!"

"You need to reconnect with them," Michonne said, trying to think fast. Rick's uneasiness was putting her on edge as well. She didn't want him to go off and make one of his snap judgments without thinking through all of the options carefully. "Build the bridge between you and your people again."

"How?"

"It's going to take some time, but we'll start with the people who are still loyal to you. Daryl, Glenn, Maggie, Sasha...They're still with you."

"How do you know?"

The clear doubt and lack of assurance in Rick's face was evident. "The way they talk about you," Michonne said. "They give you credit for keeping them safe. They give you credit for...their _lives_."

Rick ran a hand over his brow. "Yeah, well...So did Abe."

"How about this..." Michonne started. "We spend this week getting your people to know you again. Parties, meetings, speeches...we'll attend everything."

A scowl appeared across Rick's face. "We don't have time for that. Abe and his crew will have made it to Hilltop by then. And we have other enemies on our doorstep. The Saviors. We still don't know where their base camp is-"

"We'll make time," Michonne stated. "Abe and the Saviors will have to wait. Keeping your leadership intact is the most important thing for us to do right now. Our first priority. Because if you don't even have your people behind you, you don't have anything and the war will be lost before we even start."

Rick ran a frustrated hand through his hair, still impatient. "We can play nice politician later; we have to stop the threats first."

"A leader with no one willing to follow him _is_ a threat. I don't want things to get to that point." Rick's eyes found the carpet of the floor. He knew Michonne was right but he didn't like it. "The wedding celebrations will be over this week," Michonne continued, her voice softer since she could see that Rick was actually listening to her. "Just one week of the politician game. And then we'll see what we need to do from there. Okay?"

A put-upon sigh escaped Rick's lips before he looked up at Michonne once again. His messy hair gave his already stressed face a gaunt look. For a moment, Michonne thought he might argue some more. But he gave her a single nod of agreement.

"Okay..." Michonne couldn't help but to breathe a silent sigh of relief. "We should go to bed because we'll have a lot to do tomorrow. A speech addressing your people first and foremost. Right?"

Another nod.

Michonne nodded as well, glad that they had an understanding. She went to retrieve her sword to take it upstairs when Rick's voice stopped her.

"Michonne."

She turned over her shoulder to look at him.

"Thanks for coming for me tonight." Michonne nodded again, not knowing how to react to the softness in his tone. "What do we tell everyone when they start to wonder where Abe and the rest are?"

"I don't know," Michonne said. "We'll think about that tomorrow." She paused. "We may have to tell them the truth."

When silence descended and Michonne moved to pick up her katana to make her way upstairs, Rick's voice stopped her once again. "Some wedding night, huh?"

"I've had worse."

"Your wedding night with Mike was worse than this?"

"Oh. No," Michonne laughed. "I was just joking. Mike and I...we were never married."

"Why not?"

Michonne shot a questioning look over her shoulder. She was a little surprised that Rick was choosing now to ask about her personal life. After the night he had had. And it was because of the night he just had that she decided to be courteous to him and answer. She leaned her sword back against the fireplace and turned to face Rick again. "Well...there's a short answer and a long answer. Which one do you want?"

"...Long answer."

Michonne sighed. "Let me get into more comfortable clothes."

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Rick pulled his suit jacket off and kicked off his shoes. All while he tried to keep thoughts of Abe, Nicholas, Tobin, and Riff out of his mind. He tried not to think about how far away they were getting. How much he wanted to take care of them. To kill them. Before it was too late. Leaving loose ends was never a good plan. Especially where enemies were involved.

But Michonne thought other things were more important right now. And he was trusting her.

"You okay?"

Startled out of his thoughts, Rick looked at Michonne stepping off of the stairs. She was now dressed in a tank top and black yoga pants – sleeping clothes. The bells were gone from her hair.

She made her way to the couch and pulled her feet up onto the couch, making herself comfortable. In her relaxed state, it was hard to imagine that just an hour ago both she and Rick had been under threat of death.

"Yeah," Rick answered. "Why?"

"You're pacing," Michonne replied.

"Oh. Yeah."

Michonne waited for him to sit but he didn't. So she just began to speak.

"Mike and I...we were always at different places in our lives. When we first met, he was flunking out of business school and I was in my fourth year of law school."

"Law?"

"Yes. I was a lawyer. Before all of this."

"How'd you get so good with a sword?"

"Whoa. One question at a time."

"Sorry."

Rick began to pace again as he listened to Michonne.

"I was in my fourth year of law school," Michonne continued where she had left off. "And I guess you could say I was only focused on working hard and making a name for myself. When I first met Mike, I was in no way looking for a relationship. At all."

"So what changed? Was he just that charming?" A derisive, dry chuckle left Rick's lips.

Michonne gave him an unamused stare. "As a matter of fact, he was." She thought she saw Rick roll his eyes but she continued. At least as long as she kept talking, he seemed a little less obsessed about his next move where Abe and his other threats were concerned. "He came up to me one night at a club. Offered to buy me dinner and things went from there. We hit it off really well. He ended up working at his father's art museum, dropped out of business school and I continued to work towards my degree."

"In the early days, Mike would say it was all my fault that we weren't getting married and he was right. He asked me twice. But I just didn't think I was ready. I was more focused on work. I didn't think I could commit to being a wife when I still hadn't found success in my career yet. Maybe I was afraid of settling, I don't know. But when I passed my bar and found a job working at a law office, I _did_ agree to live with him. The reason for that wasn't a very good one."

She glanced up at Rick and saw him looking at her curiously. He had stopped pacing.

"I was afraid of losing him," she admitted. "I could see how frustrated he was becoming with a relationship that seemed to be at a stalemate so I decided to give an inch." She shrugged. "And I don't regret it! I mean...we were happy. We loved each other."

She pulled up her knees to make room when Rick sat at the other end of the couch.

"A few years later, I had reached stability in my career and the best thing in my life happened. I found out I was pregnant. It was when Andre was born that things seemed to flip. I was ready to get married. But once he had a son, Mike...I don't know...he started to feel like he wasn't contributing enough or something. He said he wasn't making enough at his job. He wanted to _own_ the art museum instead of work at it." She shrugged again. "So we waited. Again. I couldn't really ask him not to pursue his career goals when he had been so patient with me, could I? Besides...living together was commitment enough. That's what I started to tell myself."

Her eyes traveled up to find Rick staring at her, his blue eyes squinting – his hair wild, and she realized where she was again. Alexandria Safe Zone. The world had ended. And she had just said so much.

"And then...here we are..." she said with a shrug, ending her story lightly. "Our family. Not together but still alive. That's more than most people can say." Pain flashed across Rick's eyes and Michonne realized her mistake. "Oh my god, I'm sorry. I'm not- I wasn't-"

Rick shook his head. "It's okay. I don't know if my family's alive or not. Maybe that's the worst part."

Michonne nodded.

"So...why are you two not together now?" Rick asked. "If you don't mind my asking."

Michonne's eyebrows raised. She wasn't sure if she was ready to get into that with Rick Grimes. But she decided to give it a try anyway. "I guess I already gave you the reason. I cared more about keeping my family alive than together."

Rick nodded. He understood that. "...I think that's the right choice..."

Michonne felt quite a bit of relief at hearing those words. Even though they were coming from a man of questionable morals such as Rick Grimes. It was good to know that someone saw things from her perspective.

"So this is your first time being married?" Rick asked.

"Yes..." Michonne answered. It all still felt so strange to her. She felt like the last twenty-four hours had all been some kind of weird imagining. That it didn't really happen. "Any pointers?"

"Yeah...Your husband's word is law."

Silence followed Rick's words as the couple stared at each other and then smiles began to spread across both of their faces. Michonne's laughter broke first and then Rick's. He had just made a joke.

"Right," Michonne laughed, surprised at his humor after everything. "I'll remember that."

"Be sure that you do."

Rick was taken aback by the brightness of Michonne's smile. He felt a certain amount of pride for being the cause of it.

"Are you still going to claim that you dislike me?" he asked.

"Does it matter if I do?" Michonne asked.

Rick's smile faltered and he asked himself the same question. 'It matters,' he thought. "No," he answered.

"Then why ask?" Michonne turned to look at the clock on the wall. It was two a.m. "We should really go to bed," she said. "We have a lot to do tomorrow."

Rick thought of his empty bedroom and the haunting dreams that would follow. Dreams filled with his old life, kidnapping, and friends stabbing him in the back. Going to bed didn't sound appealing to him at all. "You never told me about your sword," Rick said. "How did you get so good with it?"

Michonne glanced at the clock again, really wanting to go to sleep. She opened her mouth to tell Rick as much but something in his gaze made her stay. She sighed. "Umm...There's a short answer and a long answer. Which one do you want?"

"Long answer."

"Okay. I was in college..."

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Rick and Michonne arrived arm-in-arm to the fighting competition organized by The Kingdom while they were there. It was the second day of the wedding celebrations and Rick decided he was going to try to follow Michonne's plan. Shake hands, smile, drink, eat, and converse with his people before he tried to go off and kill anyone else.

He looked over at his new wife to see her stifle a yawn as they made their way into an old abandoned building that had been transformed into a gymnasium overnight. The center of the floor was padded with old mats and benches and other forms of seating had been set up around it. Two seats left empty next to the mats – for better viewing – were set up for Rick and Michonne.

"You gonna make it through this?" Rick asked, his voice a teasing whisper in Michonne's ear. "You look exhausted."

Michonne looked up at him with an unamused stare. "And whose fault is that?"

Rick had kept Michonne up all night talking to him on the living room couch. She had been fine with it until she realized there was a shortage of coffee in the ASZ. So there was currently none at their house. Now she hated Rick Grimes and his smirking face and his dumb questions. She wanted to crash. As long as there wasn't adrenaline running through her veins for fear of not living another day, she was not a person who could just stay up all night and be okay.

Rick smiled. "You look beautiful. Smile."

Michonne frowned just to spite him. But it only caused him to chuckle good-naturedly. Michonne scowled, wondering why Rick was suddenly in such a good mood. She figured it must be because he was the devil incarnate and he just loved to see her miserable. "I never should have stayed up with you," she grumbled.

Rick chuckled again.

Chattering began to cease in the building as Michonne and Rick made their way to the center of the room. Ezekiel smiled at them from his front-row seat.

Michonne forced herself to wake up a little more. The amount of people in the room really made it clear that they were doing something big here. By uniting these communities. Michonne pinpointed Mike and Andre in the crowd. Mike was frowning at Rick but smiled when Michonne's eyes landed on him. Andre smiled and waved and she waved back.

She also recognized some of Rick's people. Maggie, Sasha, Glenn, Daryl, and Rosita. But she was surprised to see that they weren't a part of the crowd. They were over in the training area.

"They're fighting?" she asked Rick under her breath.

"I guess so," Rick answered back.

"I thought only the Kingdom fighters would be involved."

"I thought so too," Rick said. "But I guess they thought it would be fun to enter."

Michonne frowned. Usually this wouldn't bother her, but this was a new alliance. The Kingdom and the ASZ were just now coming together. She didn't want any grudges due to a stupid tournament fight to cause ill will before the alliance could even form properly. "Let's hope it stays fun," she whispered back.

Rick understood her concerns without her having to voice them. "Do you want me to keep them from entering?"

Michonne glanced up at him, slightly surprised that he was deferring to her. "No," she said. "I trust that they can keep things civil."

The room was completely silent as the communities waited for Rick to speak.

He began.

"First of all, I'd like to thank the citizens of The Kingdom and The Hilltop for coming out." There was a cheer from both communities to greet his words. "This is the biggest celebratory event we've ever had and I'd like to thank...Maggie Greene for helping to organize everything." Maggie smiled bashfully as another cheer went up.

Rick glanced at Michonne before he continued. She nodded and he launched into his speech. "I know..." he started. "Things have been a little crazy lately. _I've_ been a little crazy lately." He smiled tightly and Michonne squeezed his arm reassuringly to keep him going. "I've heard the jokes. You know...'Let me get to work before Rick Grimes kills me...literally'." A few people laughed nervously and the crowd began to glance at each other, wondering where this was going.

Michonne reassuringly shook her head at Ezekiel when he frowned at her, silently asking her what was going on. Mike was also frowning from the crowd.

"I'm taking this chance to explain to everyone why I've done what I've done. When I killed Pete Anderson, I was simply protecting a fellow citizen. One of ours. Miss Jessie Anderson." Jessie blushed from where she sat when people turned to look at her. "Jessie told me that...Pete was sometimes...violent in the home. And she asked me for help. I feared that if I didn't act immediately, it would be too late. I realize that maybe I jumped to the extreme; I probably could have locked him away until we came to an agreement as a community as to what to do with him..." A few people in the crowd nodded. "...But I acted in the heat of the moment and I now realize how that has come to look to some of you. I realize I could have possibly handled it better and I hope that those in this community and our neighboring communities won't judge me too harshly for my mistake."

"And as for Mr. Robertson..." Rick sighed. "I once again acted rashly. Once again, Mrs. Anderson was threatened and he also threatened my wife. I was only protecting my community. As I've been doing from day one. Again, I could have locked him away but I acted on instinct. I hope you all can continue to look at me favorably."

There was a moment of silence as no one in the room had been expecting to hear a speech of this nature when they came out to watch a tournament but Glenn began to clap. And soon others followed.

Rick's shoulders relaxed. He hadn't known how tense he was until that moment.

"And I realize I have other shortcomings," Rick said over the clapping. "But I'll try to be a better leader from here on out."

Cheering increased. A smile spread across Rick's face and he looked down at Michonne. She smiled back at him and gave his arm another reassuring squeeze.

"Now why don't we start the tournament?" Michonne shouted.

Cheers grew louder and the crowd whooped.

Rick and Michonne made their way over to the chairs allocated to them. "That was relatively easy," Rick whispered.

"Yeah, it's easy to make promises," Michonne said. "Now we have to follow through."

Rick studied Michonne's profile and then he smiled. She really was beautiful. She wore a long, white shirt that fell over form-fitting black pants. Black boots were pulled to her shins and her dreads fell to just below her shoulder blades in a half-up style.

Michael made his way to the middle of the floor and began to MC the event, going over the rules. Two fighters, randomly picked – female vs. female and male vs. male, would make their way to the center of the ring and fight. No weapons and no aiming for serious or deathly injuries. This was a battle merely for entertainment and anyone who seriously injured another player would be disqualified. The goal would be to pin the opponent for three seconds and then the fight would be over.

Michonne felt a thrill of excitement run through her. She was a little less tired than she had been a few moments ago.

"This may be fun after all," Michonne stated, her eyes glowing with excitement.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Rick watched Michonne leaning forward in her chair as she watched the fights. She groaned when a player she was rooting for took a hit and cheered when a player she was rooting for won. She was entertaining to watch.

It was two hours into the fights and she now held Andre in her lap. Rick was endeared by it. But what he didn't like was the way that Mike now hovered nearby as well. He stood beside Michonne's chair and watched the fights with her. And what was even more annoying was the fact that Michonne now turned to Mike to share her excitement instead of Rick the way she had been doing when the fights first started.

Rick rubbed his fingers over his lips and watched as Michonne's eyes danced once more when Daryl won his second match.

He suddenly stood up and made his way over to Michael to whisper something in his ear when the next match began.

Michonne watched him curiously as he went but then she just turned her attention back to the proceedings of the match.

When Gale, one of the best fighters at the kingdom, won against Glenn cheers sounded. It was Gale's third win.

"Everyone, we have an interesting turn of events!" Michael announced before he introduced the next fight. "Our very own Rick Grimes, leader of the Alexandria Safe Zone wants to enter the match. What do you say guys? Should we let him try his hand against Gale here?"

Loud screams and cheers went up all around the auditorium. A surprised Michonne turned to see Rick taking his shirt off.

"Are you crazy?!" she asked when he looked at her. She was sure he couldn't hear her over the screams but she was confident that he knew exactly what she was saying. He only smirked and began to jump in place, warming up for the fight.

Michonne shook her head, hating his smirk and everything else. But she hoped to God that he knew what he was doing. Because she didn't particularly want him hurt.

\- Thanks everyone for weighing in about how to handle Abe. You'll see what happens as the story goes on.


	10. Chapter 10

Recap: Rick was feeling antsy after being kidnapped. He wanted to immediately go after his captors, but Michonne convinced him that rebuilding relationships in his community is more important right now.

As a part of the week-long wedding celebration, a fighting tournament was started. Wanting to show off for his new wife, Rick decided to enter.

 **Chapter 9: Fun and Games**

The dinner party buzzed with activity. A dinner party hosted by Rick Grimes in Rick Grimes' own home.

The house's first floor was full as much of the community had turned up for the dinner after the fights.

"You could have warned me about this," Rick said between gritted teeth as he gripped a glass of alcohol in his hand. His eyes scanned the crowded room. It felt strange to have his house invaded by this many people. He had kept it closed to others for a while now.

"Well, I definitely would have re-thought this if I knew you would be silly enough to enter the fights today." Michonne cast a glance over at Rick as he held the arm close to his side, probably trying to discreetly relieve a bruised rib. And his eye was decorated by a newly formed bruise. She was just glad that it wasn't swelling. Yet. She filled a glass with ice and moved in closer to his side to gently hold it to his face.

Rick jerked away, surprised by the chill of the glass and the suddenness of the contact. He stilled, though, when he saw that Michonne was just trying to help. But he still brushed her hand away. "Don't do that. It's not like you can hold that there the whole night. That would look a bit ridiculous."

"You already look ridiculous," Michonne said, a furrow in her brow, as she studied the nasty looking bruise. It was the only thing marring his good looks now that he had dressed up for the party in yet another black and white suit. Even his slightly wild hair complemented his ruggedly handsome face.

Michonne herself had changed into a form-fitting cream colored dress with a one-shouldered strap. She had announced the party after the fights so everyone would have time to go change and then come striaight over. She was surprised when she had walked inside her new home and saw just how much Holly, one of the community residents, had been able to do with such short notice. Their place looked like a banquet hall.

Michonne placed the glass against the broken skin on Rick's face again, ignoring his wince. "Why did you do that anyway?" she asked, still confused as to why Rick entered the fights so impulsively. "It was reckless."

Rick scowled. "I won."

A small smile appeared on Michonne's face as she thought back to what she had seen of the fight. Rick had taken a couple of blows but he soon figured out that Gale was a little predictable in his offense – always a right straight and a quick left hook. Rick had managed to begin avoiding him until he slipped behind and got the other man in a sleeper hold. "Yes, you did," she said.

Rick glanced at her. He brushed her hand away again. "It's not like you care though. You were gone before the fight was over."

A sigh escaped Michonne as she cast her eyes to the ground. "Rick-"

Michonne was cut off when Daryl came up to them, dressed in his usual clothes and forsaking the fruit spread out on the table for his own personal jerky. "Hey guys," he said with a nod.

Michonne noticed Rick stiffen and shift on his feet. She turned to face Daryl – nursing the cup of ice in her hands. "What is it?"

"Nothin'. Just comin' over to say hey." He took a drink of his alcohol and glanced at Rick, who wasn't saying anything. He wasn't even looking at the other man. A strained atmosphere settled. "And I was also wonderin' if I could go out later this week. Go huntin'. See if I can find anymore places to raid. Last time I ran across a tucked away warehouse that was nearly untouched." He nodded around at the party with all of the full dinner plates. "After this week we're gonna have to restock the pantry."

"If we could just focus on this war, worrying about scavenging for food wouldn't be so detrimental," Rick finally growled, flexing his fingers – probably to relieve his sore knuckles.

Michonne glanced down at his movements and then back to Daryl. "Won't it be dangerous to go on a run right now? All of the surrounding area has probably been picked clean by the Saviors by now."

"I know," Daryl said with a nod. "I was thinkin' about goin' further out-"

"How far?" Rick growled.

"...About-"

"Down past Hilltop?" Rick's tone was hard and his eyes were piercing.

"No...not really..." Daryl said. He looked at Michonne questioningly.

"I don't think you need to be goin' anywhere," Rick said. "I think maybe you should stay here. Close."

Michonne closed her eyes and shook her head. "Daryl, can we-? Can we talk later? I'll come find you okay?"

"Yeah..." Daryl said with a furrowed brow. "Sure." He walked off and chucked his leftover piece of jerky aside, not caring where it landed.

"Rick, what are you doing?" Michonne asked, whispering softly. "We're not interrogating them. Remember?"

Rick finally broke his stare from Daryl's back as he disappeared into the crowd. "I'm still not convinced we don't need to," he said.

"You're being paranoid."

The muscles in Rick's jaw clenched. "And I think you're bein' too relaxed. We should be prepping for war already! Not drinkin' schnapps and dancin'!"

Michonne forced herself to stay calm in the face of Rick's anger. "We'll be ready," she said, surprising Rick again by placing the cup of ice gently against his wound once more. "Your people have been ready for months now. You've trained them well. A little time off won't hurt anyone."

"It will!" Rick protested gruffly, but his voice was softer at least. "It can."

"It's not like we're completely defenseless. We have people on the wall. In the tower. On guard shifts. Not everyone in the community is celebrating. We'll know well before in case anything were to happen."

Rick shook his head, still not comfortable with this. With waiting to strike. "Where'd you go?" he asked, trying to take his mind off of his enemies. "During the fight?"

Michonne's tongue darted out to wet her lips as she thought back to the fight. "Mike needed to speak to me in private," she said.

Rick clenched his teeth together. "About what?"

"He..." Michonne sighed. "It's not important."

That answer wasn't satisfactory to Rick. "Tell me anyway," he challenged with a tilt of his head.

" _I was thinking about you last night_ ," Mike's words came back to her. " _Couldn't sleep 'cause I just kept thinkin'..."_

" _What?"_

Michonne sighed and decided not to beat around the bush. "He wanted to know if we consummated our marriage."

Rick's brow furrowed and he brushed her hand away, taking the cool relief from his wound. "I hope you told him that wasn't his business," Rick growled. Michonne was silent. She sat the cup of ice down on the table.

" _I just kept thinkin' about you and that man in that house together. It's just been us for a long time."_

" _No,"_ Michonne had replied. _"We haven't been an 'us' for a long time."_

" _Still..."_

"What'd you tell him?" Rick asked, leaning his head so that he could catch the gaze from her lowered eyes. His bruised knuckles smarted as he flexed his fingers.

Michonne raised her head. "I told him the truth," she said. "This is a political marriage. Nothing else."

Rick gritted his teeth and stared. "Well, we might have to change that won't we?"

Michonne wanted to ask him what he meant by that but she was interrupted by Jessie stepping into their proximity.

The blonde had changed into a knee-length white dress that sparkled when light hit it and her hair was hanging in the style of a braid to rest against her upper back. "Hi," she said, looking between the two people until her eyes landed on Rick. Rick and Michonne stared questioningly back. "I- I just wanted to say...I'm...thankful for what you did for me. With Pete." She shook her head. "And I know that sounds horrible but I just- I'm really, really grateful." A blush tinged her cheeks and she turned to Michonne with what seemed to be a sudden thought. "And I'm- thankful to you as well. You saved me from Robertson. After your announcement at the fights, I just felt like I needed to come over here and say that."

"You don't need to thank us," Rick said. "We're just doing what we can."

"Well...thanks anyway..." Jessie said. She smiled a gentle, tremulous smile when she caught Rick's eye before she turned and left Rick and Michonne standing there.

"Well...there's one person who's on your side," Michonne said. "Now we have to get the rest of these people on your side. That's what we need to focus on."

"How are we going to do that?" Rick asked.

Michonne smiled and Rick felt immediate forboding in his stomach.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"I haven't played this game in forever."

Rick stared down at the board game in front of him, barely listening to Glenn's words. He was wondering what the hell he was doing instead of making sure fortifications were up to their full standard. His leg bounced up and down as he stared down at the setup of the Risk game they had going. But he wasn't really seeing it.

He and Michonne were sitting on a couch while other people sat around the table on the floor in a room separate from the dancing and chatter still going on in the spacious living room. Michonne tapped Rick's leg. Tara, Eugene, Glenn, and Maggie stared at him. It was apparently his turn.

He snapped out of his thoughts and shifted himself forward. His red pieces were overtaking the board. He smiled. The game was annoying but at least he was in a good place to win. The only person he could see as a threat to him was Michonne. Both she and he were overtaking all of North America, Asia, and Europe at this point. They had entered into an alliance early on and it had done them well. Tara was pretty much out of the game at this point with an infantry of less than twenty occupying Australia. Eugene had a pretty good stronghold on Africa. And Maggie and Glenn were in control of South America.

Rick trailed his finger over his lip, deep in thought. His most obvious route was to attack South America with his unit in North America but...his eyes slid over to Michonne.

"Don't even think about it," she said immediately.

"Think about it," Glenn countered eagerly, trying to escape his fate.

"Don't you dare think about attacking me Rick," Michonne stated with a serious tone. She had a competitive streak and it was coming out. She took winning seriously, even if it was just winning a silly board game.

Rick was slightly taken aback at her warning. His eyebrows raised. "I wouldn't dream of it." He paused. And in that pause he continued to eye her territories. "But if I take Europe from you I can-"

"You can get your ass kicked."

A silence fell over the table as everyone clamped their mouths shut, waiting for Rick's reaction. He stared at Michonne silently, trying to read her mood. She was completely serious. She kept her eyes on the game but her entire body was stiff save for her massaging her thumb and index finger in agitation and jiggling her foot from contained upset energy. Rick chuckled. This one of the few times he was seeing Michonne anything but calm and collected and it was over a board game. "Okay..." he said. "What if you just surrendered it to me-?"

Michonne faced him in angry disbelief. "Surrender it to you?! You mean basically give you my army? Why would I do that? I might as well just quit the game if I did that."

Rick glanced around at everyone else and saw that amusement was dancing in their eyes as well. He was glad he wasn't the only one finding Michonne's investment in the game somewhat entertaining. "No, you don't have to quit the game," Rick continued – his mind off of real life fortifications for the moment. "We'd still be allies; I'd just be-"

"You'd be in control."

"Well...yeah."

Glenn couldn't hold his laughter anymore. He snickered.

He regretted it though when Michonne's eyes landed on him. "Attack Glenn," she told Rick.

"What?!" Glenn sputtered.

A full smile was on Rick's face. "Why?"

"If you take South America, I can focus on taking Africa, and then Australia won't be a problem. After we clear the board of everyone else _then_ we can iron things out between us."

"You understand we can hear you, right?" Eugene asked.

"You understand it doesn't matter, right?" Michonne retorted. "None of you can do anything." She wiggled her finger between herself and Rick. "We outnumber you."

Maggie's mouth fell open and everyone else looked on in surprise. Looking at the board, it was clear that Michonne was right. Even united, they couldn't do much of anything if Rick and Michonne continued their alliance. "And we thought Rick was the ruthless one," Tara muttered.

Everyone glanced at Rick fearfully after Tara's words, not knowing how he would react. When his eyes only twinkled with amusement and he responded with "Well, I guess you were wrong," they relaxed. He began to roll his dice and nodded towards Glenn. "Glenn, I'm attacking you."

"Oh, come on!"

Michonne smiled, happy that she had gotten her way. Rick glanced over in time to catch it and shook his head. What was this woman that she caused him to do such silly things?

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"Hey, thanks," Glenn said as Michonne led him and Maggie out of the house. Tara and Eugene had already left due to being defeated earlier in the game and the party had been ushered out an hour before. "This was actually pretty fun." Michonne nodded. Satisfaction was still pulsing through her veins at having won the game but now that it was over the fact that she hadn't been to sleep in over twenty-four hours was starting to come back to her. She couldn't help but to think about the bed waiting for her upstairs. It was a bed she was still getting used to but it was a bed. With a soft yet firm mattress and thick blankets.

Glenn looked over Michonne's shoulder to see Rick putting away the board and the game pieces. "He uh...he actually kind of reminded me a little of the Rick we knew before. Or the Rick we could've known if we met him pre-apocalypse."

"Yeah," Maggie agreed, taking Michonne's hand. "I don't know what you're doing but...you may be the best thing to happen to him. And us."

Michonne smiled a taut smile. She wasn't sure about that but she was glad that it seemed they had managed to solidify a few more bonds with a few of the most capable people in the ASZ. "Thanks," Michonne said, seeing them out. "I hope to see you guys more often. Have a good night."

"You too," Maggie said. They left the house and Michonne closed the door behind them.

She sighed and leaned against the door, her body ready to give out after the day's activities.

"Is this what we're going to be doing for the rest of the week?" Rick asked. Michonne opened her eyes to see that he was in front of her, a few feet away. "Having parties and playing board games?"

"If that's what it takes for people to like you, then yes," Michonne said.

Rick sighed. "I'm not sure if we accomplished any of that today." He began to work his tie from around his neck, wincing from the pain in his hands. Michonne stepped forward and brushed his hands aside. She loosened the tie for him and then took it from around his neck.

"We did," she said. "Glenn and Maggie were just saying how much they had missed getting time with you as they were leaving."

"Really?"

"Yes."

For a minute Rick looked thoughtful and then he shook his head. "I still don't know if we can trust them."

"We can," Michonne said, folding his tie in her hands. "My gut tells me we can."

Rick heaved a breath. Michonne knew that he still didn't like the waiting to act. She went to the stairs and hung his tie over the banister. "You want to go over plans to find the Saviors' base camp in the morning?"

A spark seemed to shoot through Rick and it lit up his eyes. "I thought we weren't doing that until later," he said.

"We're not _going_ until later. Doesn't mean we can't plan it."

Rick nodded and started towards the stairs. "I've actually already got some plans drawn up in my room. I'll show them to you-"

Michonne stopped him. "Tomorrow morning," she said. "I don't think I can keep my eyes open much longer."

Rick actually took the time to take note of Michonne's drooping eyelids and the way she leaned against the banister of the stair. "Funny..." Rick said, stepping into her space. "You didn't seem to be tired when you were beating me in Risk."

Michonne smirked. "Don't be a sore loser."

Standing close to Michonne, Rick could smell a flowery scent coming from her skin – the lingering scent of whatever perfumed substance she had used for their wedding – and his eyes flickered down to her lips. Michonne was so different from any of the women that Rick had been with but there was something so easy about being with her. He stepped in closer to her, causing Michonne to take a step back.

Her back pressed against the railing of the stairs. She furrowed her brow.

"You know I haven't forgotten about earlier," Rick said.

"What happened earlier?"

"You seemed to think it was okay to let Mike in on every detail of our relationship-"

"Our _political_ relationship."

"Yeah, I was thinking about that," Rick said. He pressed his chest against hers. "And I've decided it's not fair to me. We're expecting this marriage to last, if not our whole lives, years at least. Wouldn't you say so?"

Michonne wondered where he was going with this. "Yeah."

"And you're not willing to share any kind of physical relationship with me at all during that time? Even if it's for the rest of our lives?"

Michonne thought about the implications of that.

"I'm sure you can see the flaw in that. Because I'm sure..." Rick gently ran his hand along Michonne's arm. "You have needs too." He swallowed deeply, watching her closely.

Michonne felt her skin tingle where he touched her. But she wasn't willing to be seduced by a man who had made getting women into his bed a kind of pass time sport. She looked up into his eyes. "And you were doing so well too..." she said with a smirk. She began to walk away.

Rick stopped her by placing his hand on her stomach and gently pressing her back against the railing.

"Rick," Michonne said warningly.

"What do you suggest I do?" he asked, his eyes sincerely asking. "I'm not the man I was. I can't...be alone at night."

"Why not?" Michonne's eyes searched Rick's.

Rick squinted. "I think about them. All the time."

"Your family?"

"Yes."

"And sex is what? Some kind of distraction?"

"It's more than that." Rick continued to look into her eyes. "Sometimes it feels like I'm getting it back for a little bit. Everything I lost. Like she's there with me again." For some reason, he felt okay confessing that to her.

He stared at her, waiting to see judgment in her eyes but it never came.

"You have to learn to live with them," Michonne finally said. "The ghosts. They never go away."

"How do you know?" Rick pressed. "Your family's still alive."

"That doesn't mean I haven't lost people," Michonne said. "All of our lives have changed ever since this outbreak. We can only learn to live with the changes."

A stretch of silence passed between them before Michonne spoke again.

"...Can I go to sleep now?"

Rick released her. "Yeah..." he responded softly. But before she could walk away completely, he called her back. "Michonne?"

"Yeah?"

"That board game got a little too intense. Maybe try to keep your crazy under control around guests, okay?"

Michonne smiled. "Look who's talking," she said before continuing her way up the stairs. Rick watched her go and shook his head. To have that woman in his house without touching her was just unfair.

He looked down at the empty space on his finger where his wedding band used to be. All of it was unfair.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000

Michonne fell down onto her bed when she made it to her room. 'A lifetime of abstinence,' she thought despairingly. 'I really didn't think this through.'


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11:

For the first night in three days, Rick was able to close his eyes and get some sleep alone in his bedroom. But his sleep wasn't peaceful. He was plagued with nightmares about his family. His past wife and his son.

Sweat drenched Rick's pillow when he suddenly opened his eyes.

He pulled back, startled, when the first thing that met his eyes was a small, unfamiliar looking little boy staring at him with wide eyes. He didn't have much time to register what he was seeing before Michonne's figure came through the door.

"Sorry, sorry," she said. She hurried to the bed and picked the little boy up from the bed. It was then that Rick belatedly realized that it was Michonne's son, Andre, he was looking at. "I was changing clothes and he disappeared on me. I convinced Mike to let me have him for the day since we'll be leaving tomorrow to look for the Saviors. We'll stay out of your hair." She turned and made her way out the bedroom door with Andre on her hip; he was still staring curiously at the rugged, sleep addled man lying in bed.

Rick shook his head to wake up and threw the covers aside. Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, he allowed his mind to pull itself from sleep.

That's right. It was the last day of the week-long wedding celebration. He had gotten through seven long days of mindless chatter, parties, and what Michonne called "bonding with his people". It had been torture.

And when he thought about how he couldn't even get relief in the night from between his new wife's thighs, he grew even more frustrated. She really wouldn't even give an inch. It seemed she was serious when she said there would never be anything like that between them.

He ran his hands through his hair and followed after Michonne, making his way downstairs. He found her in the kitchen with Andre still on her hip. She was at the stove making breakfast.

He pulled up short at the sight, remembering mornings where he would find Lori and Carl the exact same way. Pain clenched his heart.

"Mama. He's here." Andre's small voice came quietly. His chocolate eyes were once again fixed on Rick.

"Hm?" Michonne asked gently. "Who's here?" She turned over her shoulder to see Rick standing in the doorway looking slightly dazed. "Oh. Rick. Do you want breakfast too?"

Rick broke himself from his trance and walked into the room. He hadn't even washed up yet but Michonne was fully dressed in a blue tank top and leather pants. She was still barefoot though. His eyes traveled up and down her well-toned and shapely body. He was convinced she knew what she was doing. "Going somewhere?" he asked.

"Yeah," Michonne answered, still concentrating on her cooking. "We're going to have a picnic on the shooting grounds since there's no training today."

"Just you two?" Rick asked.

"Yeah," Michonne answered.

"Nothing's planned for today? No more parties I need to go to? People I need to talk to?"

"No, not today. Those who are left are packing up and going home today. I'm going to go and say goodbye to Ezekiel before he leaves after the picnic." She looked at Andre, expecting him to cheer like he usually did when he heard Ezekiel's name – he loved the old man – but Andre stayed silent. It seemed he was still caught up in just studying Rick. A bemused smile fell across Michonne's lips.

"I'm going to go with you," Rick said, making a sudden decision. "I want to talk plans with you before we leave."

Michonne quickly turned towards Rick with a look of shocked consternation on her face. "We've been over the plans a million times already. We talked about them last night."

"Well, I want to talk about them more." Rick said it in a way that left no room for argument. "And yes, I'd like some breakfast. Get it ready while I go to wash up." He left the room before Michonne could say anything else.

A sigh escaped her lips. She had been looking forward to having this day be for just her and Andre. "Well, there goes our mother-son day, Dre."

"I don't like him," Andre said with a pout. Michonne turned to him with a concerned expression.

"You don't? Why not?"

"Scary..."

"He's scary?" Michonne stroked Andre's hair and matched his pout with one of her own. "Aw. Well, you have nothing to be scared of. He's not as scary as he looks. Besides...I'm right here. You think I'd let anything happen to you?"

Andre shook his head.

"Of course not. So come on, let's focus on breakfast before it burns." Michonne turned back to the stove. "Should we make his taste bad? Because he's scary?"

"Yeah," Andre answered immediately.

Michonne laughed. "I was just joking. But I like the way you think."

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Rosita hovered around the pantry with Tara and Eugene as they took inventory. She originally was there to help, but as she stood in place staring blankly at a shelf of peas with a clipboard in hand, it became obvious to Tara that she and Eugene were working alone.

She walked forward and waved a hand in front of Rosita's face. When Rosita blinked and looked her way, she smiled. "Hey there. You okay?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah I am." She hastily began to try to put her focus back on the job at hand but Tara stopped her. She could tell that Rosita wasn't okay.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Rosita sighed and shook her head. "It's probably nothing."

"Okay, well, spit it out anyway."

"Just the fact that Abraham hasn't come back yet," Rosita said worriedly. "I know Rick said that he sent him to the Hilltop but...for what?" Tara listened with sympathy. "He didn't tell me how long he would be gone, he didn't say when he expected him back – nothing. He wouldn't even tell me what he sent him there for."

"It's probably some super secret mission," Tara said, trying to keep her voice light and worry-free. "You know Rick. He's become super tightlipped. Even with us."

"I know," Rosita said, setting the clipboard down on the shelf with a sound thunk. "That's what worries me. What if he sent Abe to do something dangerous? Sasha told me that a group of them are leaving to go find the Saviors' base camp. Do you think whatever Abe's doing has something to do with that?"

Tara laid a calming hand on Rosita's shoulder. "I don't know. But...I still trust Rick. Don't you?"

Rosita was quiet. "...I'm thinking about asking him if I can go to Hilltop to see Abe. If he just sent Abe to talk to Gregory or something, it should be no problem."

Tara sighed through her nose. She wasn't sure if Rick would allow Rosita to go to the neighboring community but she could tell that Abe's absence was weighing on Rosita. And she was determined to do something about it, whether it was to get answers or travel to the Hilltop herself to see him in person. "You do what you have to do," Tara ended up saying.

The worry line disappeared from Rosita's forehead for a moment, glad that she had her friend's support. "Thanks," she said with a small smile.

"No problem. And tell me if you need anything. I'll come and be your backup if you need me to."

"No thanks," Rosita said. "If I have to, I'll just sneak out. I don't need Rick's permission."

Tara gave a frown of concern but didn't try to stop her friend when she turned to leave. "Okay...But hey-" Rosita turned back to look at her. "Maybe try to get him when he's with Michonne. He seems pretty chill when he's with her."

Rosita nodded and left.

"Hey, Tara? Organizing foodstuffs is not exactly within my skill set; can you come and give me a hand?"

"Oh, for God's sake, Eugene!"

00000000000000000000000000000000000

Michonne was packing up the food on the table in the middle of the room when Rick, in a T-shirt and jeans, came back into the kitchen. Her hands were free because she had released Andre from her arms so that he could stand at her side. Rick noticed how the little boy retreated behind his mother's legs when he drew nearer.

He cleared his throat. "Are we ready?"

"Just about," Michonne answered.

She glanced at Rick hovering awkwardly near the corner of the table while she finished packing the food. "Do you wanna help?" she asked.

"Uhh...You're just about finished. I don't wanna get in the way."

"Okay..." Michonne said, a little annoyed because the least he could do was pack some of the dishes together, but when she looked up she saw Rick glance at her son who was clinging tightly to her leg. He was obviously afraid. Michonne realized then that Rick was purposefully keeping his distance. Michonne was once again surprised by the thoughtfulness of the man who spent most of his time thinking about vengeance and indulging in power.

She pushed the picnic blanket she had folded across the table to Rick. "Then can you go ahead and find us a nice spot? We'll be right behind you."

"Okay." Rick took the blanket and left for the shooting grounds where they would have their picnic.

Michonne met him out there a few moments later. He was sitting and staring off into the distance as he waited for them. The sounds of people going about their every day lives around the community could be heard but they were pretty much to themselves on the training grounds. Michonne walked towards him. He looked calm and patient; he wasn't even fidgeting his fingers like he normally did.

She held Andre's hand and moved to take a seat on the blanket, getting Rick's attention. His eyes snapped to her, piercing and alert.

Neither of them said anything. Michonne just went about unpacking the food and placing it on the blanket.

"I was thinking we could split up into three groups when we go to look for the Saviors. And then regroup every couple of days," Rick finally said.

Michonne arched an eyebrow. Did he ever think about anything but his next strategy? She looked at his concentrated face. 'Probably not'. And she couldn't say that that necessarily disappointed her. "You think it'd be wise to thin our numbers?" she asked. "It might be better to stick together."

"You worried about an ambush?"

Michonne shot a glance toward Andre and then glared at Rick. He snapped his lips shut, understanding the message. 'Don't worry the kid'.

"Aren't you?" Michonne answered. She was thinking about the last time when they had used that tactic. "They already outnumber us."

"If we stay in one group, it'll take longer for us to get back," Rick said. "I don't like that. I'm assuming they know where we are. And the only reason they haven't attacked yet is because we've united as communities. We can't risk them coming up with a plan and attacking while we're gone. And I don't like the idea of enemies knowing where we are when we don't have a clue where they are."

Michonne clenched her teeth together. 'Attacking. Enemies.' Rick really sucked at this being careful with his words things.

She sat his food in front of him and gave Andre his food as well. "You should stay here," Michonne said. "Just in case."

In the middle of eating his sandwich, Andre looked up at his mom. "Mama, are you leaving?"

Michonne's heart broke again. It broke whenever he asked that question. Yet again, another thing that was ruined by Rick Grimes butting himself into their day. She hadn't wanted to let him know that she was going somewhere until after they had enjoyed a fun day together. "Yeah," Michonne answered, stroking his head. "But I'm going to come back, I promise. I always come back."

Andre looked sad but he nodded.

"You shouldn't promise that," Rick said.

Michonne glared over at Rick.

"You can't promise that you'll always come back. Not now. Once you're outside your walls, you never know what's gonna happen."

Andre burst out into tears and Michonne immediately rushed to calm him. "Shh," she said. "Shh. Don't listen to him. I'll come back. I always come back. You know that. Nothing's going to keep me from you."

Rick watched awkwardly and he belatedly realized that maybe he shouldn't have spoken in front of the kid. He cast his eyes downward in regret and noticed his food. He bit into his own sandwich, just to give himself something to do while Michonne fixed his mistake, and he immediately began to cough back up what he had just put into his mouth. He grabbed a napkin, spit his food back into it, and continued to sputter.

Michonne smiled while wiping Andre's tears, glad that she had listened to her son when it came to preparing Rick's food. Andre's cries began to stop as he watched Rick's spectacle.

"Ugh," Rick said. "Why was there so much salt? Did you do that?"

"Must have been a slip of the hand," Michonne lied with a half-smile. Rick eyed her suspiciously before pouring himself some water and taking a drink.

Andre's laugh began timidly and then it became full and free.

Michonne smiled wider and wiped the last of Andre's tears. Rick stared at the two culprits of his despair but he couldn't muster up the emotion needed to be upset. "I didn't even know we had that much salt in stock," Rick muttered.

Michonne held back her own laughter thinking that if they had to eat the rest of their food bland, it was well worth it. Andre was still laughing.

"Isn't he enjoying this too much?" Rick asked. Michonne watched crinkles form next to his eyes, hinting at a secret amusement.

"He's fine," Michonne replied teasingly, stroking her son's hair again.

"So is there anything for me to eat?" Rick asked. "Or am I just supposed to starve?"

Michonne pulled another sandwich from the basket. "Here," she said. "I made you another one."

"I thought you said it was just a slip of the hand. And yet you made an extra?"

"What can I say? Intuition."

After biting into his sandwich and determining that it was indeed a less seasoned one, Rick finished eating in good time. So did Michonne and Andre, who stopped laughing long enough to swallow his meal. "Mama," he said, looking up at her. "Can I go play?"

"Stay where I can see you," Michonne advised, picking up the paper leftover from their eating. Without further ado, Andre went running off to try to do flips in the wide-open field. Rick watched the energetic young man, feeling a pain in his heart for his own son.

Michonne noticed his expression. "You miss them, don't you?"

Rick snapped out of his pain and turned to Michonne. For a moment he didn't answer and then he did. "I don't want to talk about it."

Michonne studied him gently. Then she nodded, letting it go. She turned her eyes to watch Andre. "He hasn't had time to make friends with anyone yet," she observed. "I hate seeing him play by himself. But there aren't many children around these days." Her eyes dropped at the sad reality.

"At least he still has you," Rick's voice rasped. "And you still have him."

"That's true," Michonne conceded. "And I'll do anything to keep him safe."

Rick and Michonne were interrupted when a determined Rosita stepped into their line of vision. They both focused on her.

"Where is Abraham?" Rosita demanded.

"He's at Hilltop," Rick responded easily even though he was shocked by Rosita's sudden appearance.

"Why?" Rosita asked.

Rick shrugged. "Takin' a vacation."

Rosita released an irritated breath before straightening her shoulders and making a declaration. "I'm going to go see him. Tomorrow, when all of you leave to find the Saviors' basecamp, I'm coming with you as far as Huntington and then I'm splitting off for Hilltop. That's it." With that said, she turned and walked away.

Rick and Michonne watched her go.

"She's going to be a problem," Rick stated.

"We should tell her what happened," Michonne said. "We should've told her straight away."

"She won't want us to do what's necessary if she finds out," Rick said.

Michonne finished sorting the trash. " _Is_ it necessary?"

Rick looked over at Michonne. "...What?"

"I've been thinking that maybe killing Abraham isn't the way to go."

"He tried to kill me!" Rick said, sitting up straighter.

"I know," Michonne said. "But he was only doing what he thought was right for the good of the community. In his eyes, he was taking down a tyrant."

Rick narrowed his eyes at her. "Is that what _you_ think?" Rick asked. "That I'm a tyrant?"

"We're not talking about me-"

"Now we are. Is that what you think?"

"I think you can make better decisions as a leader," Michonne admitted. "You have it in you."

Rick's eyes narrowed. 'She thinks I'm a tyrant.' That thought caused a cold hand of pain to clench around Rick's heart. The breeze of the day blew against his face and caused the old leftover scratch from his fight in the tournament to sting. 'I've been going around these last couple of days following her lead for what? For her to look at me like I'm not complete scum? What have I been doing since it's obvious she just thinks I'm scum anyway.'

Rick squinted against the wind.

"What are you thinking?" Michonne asked, trying to read Rick's quickly changing expression.

"I'll stay," Rick suddenly said.

"What?" Michonne asked.

"I'll stay here while you and the group go to look for the Saviors' base camp."

Michonne was curious about why Rick suddenly changed his mind but she didn't question it. "What should I do about Rosita?"

"Do what you think is best."

Michonne furrowed her brow. "That's it?"

"Yeah," Rick said. "You make the call about what to do about her."

"Okay," Michonne said. She shrugged off the uneasy feeling that Rick was agreeing too readily. "I'm going to tell her about what Abe did. And when we get back, we can _all_ decide what's best to do about it."

Rick gave a short nod.

"Oh. Also..." Michonne looked up at Rick expectantly. "Since we're going to be separated tomorrow for I don't know how long, I think it's about time we consummate our marriage, don't you?"

Michonne was quiet, not knowing if Rick was joking or not. His eyes didn't seem to be saying he was, but she never got the chance to ask him. They were interrupted by Mike and Matthew who had both come running up to them anxiously. Mike bypassed them to run and grab Andre and Matthew stopped in front of them with a harried expression. Michonne immediately knew something was wrong.

"I thought you were back at the Kingdom," she said to Matthew, standing up.

"There is no more Kingdom." His eyes were wide and his voice cracked.

"What?" Michonne asked, her heart immediately picking up speed. Rick got to his feet as well.

"Turns out while most of The Kingdom was here celebrating, the Saviors took the chance to attack us. The Kingdom is gone."

Michonne's hand went to her heart and she felt her knees almost give way. The Kingdom had been her home for almost two years. "Everyone who stayed back...they're gone?"

"Only a few made it," Matthew said. "He did it on purpose. Spared some of us so we could pass the message on."

"What message?" Rick growled.

"They're coming."

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Rick paced back and forth in his living room. They had gathered together all of the fighters of the community to discuss plans.

"This is exactly what they want," Rick seethed. "They want us to fret and worry until they come. Whether it's tomorrow, three days from now, a week from now, or a month. They want us to be afraid."

"So what do we do?" Sasha asked. "We already have guards at every wall twenty-four/seven. We can only hope that we can fight them when they come."

"No," Rick said. "Hope isn't enough."

"Then what do you suggest we do?" Maggie asked.

"We need to find out where their base camp is," Rick said.

"We can't afford to leave," Heath piped up.

"Maybe we can afford it..." Rick said. He looked around the room at the civilians of The Kingdom and the ASZ. "The Kingdom suffered losses today and nothing can make up for the lives that were lost, but most of The Kingdom was here. With us. What the Saviors destroyed were buildings. Buildings can be rebuilt. And now we have extra warriors here to help us fight."

Michonne glanced over at the put-out Ezekiel. She didn't know whether he was hearing anything that was being said. He seemed to be in a daze.

"So you want us to go out tomorrow as planned?" she asked.

"Not you." He turned his eyes to Daryl. "Daryl, you take a group out and see if you can find that base camp. As soon as possible."

"No problem," Daryl replied. "A damn bike gang going around on loud ass motorcycles shouldn't be hard to track."

Rick nodded. "The rest of us will stay here and protect and defend the ASZ. That's our main goal at all costs."

When Rick was done giving out orders, everyone was dismissed. "Michonne. Rosita," he called out, holding them back. They met him after everyone was gone.

"I want you two to go to the Hilltop."

Michonne and Rosita looked at each other, surprised by this request. "Michonne, take a group with you. I need you to convince the Hilltop to come and help us in this battle. No matter what it takes." Michonne nodded. This was in no way going to be easy since Gregory was adamant about avoiding war at all costs. But she knew this was an important task to complete.

"No problem," she replied.

"Rosita, you're going because you wanted to see your boyfriend so much."

Rosita rolled her eyes. 'Still an asshole,' she thought. But she didn't respond. It was true that she still wanted to go to the Hilltop. Any reason to do so was fine with her.

Rick shared a glance with Michonne, letting her know that he wanted to talk to her when they were alone. They didn't have to wait long since Rosita said she understood in less than a civil tone and then walked off.

Rick stepped closer to Michonne so that they could talk quietly. "Abe, Riff, and Tobin are supposedly at Hilltop. Last time you saw them, they threatened harm to you. I'm sure you'll do what's needed if they try something again."

Michonne glanced curiously at Rick. "Of course," she said.

Rick nodded and took a step back. "I'll talk to you later tonight. Be waiting in my room." Michonne stared after Rick as he left the living area.

When he left the house, Rick went to find Spencer. He was getting ready to take his shift at the wall. "Spencer," Rick called, catching up. The younger man stopped. "I want you to go to the Hilltop with Michonne and Rosita's group tomorrow. You may not be good at much but you're good at firing a gun. I want you to get Abe in your sights. And kill him."


	12. Chapter 12

Recap: Michonne and Rick went on a picnic with Andre where they were interrupted with news of The Saviors having opened attack on The Kingdom.

Chapter 12: Deal

The darkness of the room surrounded Michonne as she lay in bed, her mind empty save of memories. Memories that had followed her throughout the day...from the moment she found out. She was going to commit herself to trying to remember. To remember everything – The Kingdom. The friends she had made. The life she had built there.

It was easy. In the dark, her memories were so much stronger.

She was pulled from her memories when the door opened and Rick came into the room. She sat up and allowed the pillow she had been hugging to her chest to fall into her lap.

Rick stopped short. He was bare-chested and wore only his jeans. Judging from the towel draped around his neck and the fact that he was still drying his hair, it seemed that he had just come from a shower.

"I wasn't expecting to see you in here," Rick said. "Thought I'd have to come looking for you..."

"You told me to meet you here," Michonne replied.

After stealing a little more time with Andre for the day and then taking her shift on guard duty for the wall, Michonne had come back home and taken a warm shower, which had helped her to relax tense muscles that she didn't even know had been tense. Then she had come to Rick's room and waited, thinking of The Kingdom and everything they had lost.

She wondered how much she could tell Rick of what she was feeling and if he would understand.

Rick finished drying his hair and his eyes caught Michonne's katana standing between the side of the bed that she was on and the nightstand. "Is that for me?" he asked lightly. "In case I try anything?"

Michonne smirked. "Try something and find out."

Rick was again taken aback by the humor and lightness his new wife could display even in times of great tension.

His mind was still reeling with ways to keep the Saviors at bay. To keep his community safe.

He went to hang his towel on the closet door and then approached Michonne again with the subject he had wanted to talk to Michonne about. "There's a chance that Abraham, Riff, and Tobin aren't at The Hilltop," he said.

Michonne's brow furrowed. "Did you hear something?"

"No," Rick answered. "I've just been thinking that they probably would have thought twice about going there. Thinking we would come after them..."

Michonne nodded. "That's possible," she said. "But I also think it's possible that they would go to The Hilltop and try to get protection from Gregory. Get him on their side."

"Yeah..." Rick agreed. "And knowing Gregory, that might be possible."

Michonne nodded.

Rick moved to the nightstand and opened the drawer. With him standing just in front of her, Michonne allowed her eyes to flit over Rick's bare torso, highlighted in the moonlight coming through the window, before she turned to look at what he was pulling from the drawer. It was a gun.

"I got this from the armory for you," Rick said, holding it in the palm of his hand. "Your sword's a good weapon for close range targets but this is for if you need to hit something at a distance."

Michonne took the weapon from him and tested the weight of it. "Okay," she said. "I'm not the best with a gun though so I'll only use it if I need to."

"You told me you could use a gun," Rick challenged quickly.

"I can use one," Michonne said. "I just don't always hit my target." At Rick's expression, Michonne was prompted to continue. "I told you I was _okay_ with a gun. And I am! I'm not a lost cause; I'm just not Annie Oakley either."

Rick sighed, a displeased expression still on his face. "I'll give you some lessons when you get back from your trip," he said, taking the gun back from her to place it back in the drawer. "But still take this with you in the morning. You may need it."

Michonne watched him snap the drawer closed and wondered if him replacing the gun while still asking her to take it in the morning meant that he expected her to stay the night in here. With him. She shifted on the bed. "It's okay," she said. "I can just take lessons from Sasha like everyone else."

"No, I'll show you," Rick said. "Sasha's attention is split between multiple people at one time. You need to learn quickly so one-on-one lessons would be better."

"...Okay..." Michonne answered. A silent moment passed as she stared up at Rick, somewhat pleased that he insisted on giving her private gun lessons. It made her question how she felt about the man in front of her. She knew how she felt initially, but she wasn't sure how she felt now. She felt that they now had an understanding where they could trust each other and he had also been nothing but compliant with her for the past week, but she felt like she still hadn't scratched the surface with him. She still didn't know enough.

He had been taking advantage of his position of power in the worst way. That didn't just go away.

"You talked about memories of your family coming back to haunt you on quiet nights like tonight," Michonne said. Rick took a small step back, immediately drawing himself from the conversation. "I think I realize what you mean," Michonne continued. "I keep thinking about The Kingdom. And how it's just...gone now."

Rick almost breathed a physical sigh of relief when he realized it wasn't the subject of his family that was being broached. "Are you okay?" he asked. And Michonne knew he was asking if she wanted to talk about it.

"I'm not okay," Michonne answered. "But I'm dealing with it."

Rick fidgeted on his feet, not quite knowing if there was something he should say.

"It's just hard for me to think about some of my friends being gone now, you know?" Michonne continued. "I keep feeling like it's not real. Like it's something I need to see for myself."

Rick nodded. He could understand that feeling. His pain over Lori and Carl was still fresh. And he knew that that had to do with not being able to get any kind of closure in regards to their deaths or even their whereabouts. "We can rebuild," Rick offered. "After this conflict with the Saviors is over, we can focus on rebuilding The Kingdom. With the citizens who survived. And we can build a memorial for those who didn't."

Michonne stared at Rick, pleased by his considerate response.

"What?" Rick asked.

"Nothing," Michonne said with a shake of her head. "I just never quite know which side of you to expect."

"Why? Because I'm a tyrant?"

Michonne scoffed and cocked her head to the side. "There you go being sensitive again." She stood up from her place on the bed. "Well...I'm going to go to bed. Since I have to get up early tomorrow. By the way...I think Mike wants to come along on the trip to Hilltop. Says he wants to talk to me."

"When did he say this?" Rick asked, his brow furrowed.

"When I dropped Andre off after spending some more time with him."

"And what exactly does he have to talk to you about?"

"I'm not sure," Michonne said. "But he had friends at The Kingdom just like I did. So maybe he wants to talk about that."

Rick released a displeased sigh. "As long as he doesn't become a distraction while you're carrying out your mission..."

Michonne gave a single nod and began to take a step towards the door, but Rick caught her arm to stop her. "I do remember, though, that you gave Mike information about our marriage that wasn't his business. Just because he asked." He crowded Michonne's space and she took a step back, her eyes dropping once again to his bare torso and then flitting back up to his eyes.

"I only told him the truth," Michonne said. "Our marriage is strictly political."

"Our marriage can be strictly political and still be pleasurable for both of us."

The back of Michonne's legs touched the bed and she knew that she could go no further. Rick wrapped his arm around her and pressed her against his chest when she almost lost her balance.

Michonne's breathing grew heavier and she felt a traitorous tingling between her legs. "See," she said. "This is what I meant by never knowing what side of you to expect."

Rick cupped Michonne's face in his hand and gently tilted it upward. "We've done things your way for a while," he whispered, his breath hitting her lips. "Let's try doing things my way." He leaned forward, halfway expecting her to pull out another knife as she had done the first time he had tried to kiss her – or he expected her to grab her sword which leaned against the wall and pull it on him. But surprisingly she did neither. He figured she was giving him permission so he continued to lean forward. But just when his lips were a hairs breadth from her own, she spoke.

"I'll think about giving you once a week."

Rick pulled back to look Michonne in her eyes, to make sure she was serious. If she was saying what he thought she was saying, this was more than what he had expected.

"Twice a week," he offered.

"Once a week," Michonne stated again.

"Fine," he said. "But you won't think about it. It's a done deal."

"Fine," Michonne said, holding her hand out for a handshake. "But _after_ I get back from Hilltop."

"Fine," Rick said, taking her hand and shaking it.

The deal was made.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

The next day when everyone was getting ready to leave for Hilltop, Michonne glanced around and she was a bit disappointed when she didn't catch sight of Rick. She had somewhat expected him to send her off since she was going to be gone for a few days. When she had gone to get her gun from his room that morning, he had already been gone. And she hadn't seen him since.

Rosita became a distraction when she walked by looking slightly rushed. "Weren't we supposed to be gone by now? What's the hold-up?"

Michonne looked around to see that everyone was, in fact, ready to go. She was the only one still standing around.

Her eyes went to Mike, who was standing in the carriage bed which was to be pulled behind the horses. "Who do you have watching Andre?"

"Matthew," Mike responded. "Andre really missed him."

Michonne nodded. She knew how much Andre loved Matthew. "Okay," she said, not really able to find any other reason to stall. She went to one of the horses to get ready to mount. "Let's get ready to go then."

"Michonne."

Michonne turned around to see Rick walking towards her and she fought the smile that threatened to pull at her lips. It wasn't his business to know she had been expecting him. "Yeah," she said as nonchalantly as she could, walking forward to meet him.

"Did you get the gun from my room?"

Michonne nodded and raised her shirt to show Rick the holster with the gun inside on her hip.

Rick nodded. "Come back in one piece."

Michonne smiled. "I will. You be careful too."

Rick nodded again. And Michonne knew the goodbyes were pretty much over. And as awkward and brief as they were, she was glad that he had showed himself to say goodbye anyway.

"I'll get going," she said.

"Okay," Rick said.

Michonne got onto her horse and left through the front gates, looking back once to see Rick give her a wave.

When she was out of sight, Rick sighed. He would never admit that he had come to the gates to give her a goodbye kiss but had lost his nerve when she had actually been standing in front of him. He hadn't lost his nerve in front of a woman since he asked his wife, Lori, out on their first date.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

 **3 Days Later**

It didn't take long for Michonne to locate Abe once she got to the Hilltop. The moment she walked into Gregory's mansion to meet him, she saw Abraham flanking Gregory's desk chair in his office. She glanced around the office but didn't see Tobin or Riff. Two other guys were in the room, but she didn't know them.

Rosita, who was right beside Michonne released a breath of relief when she saw her red-headed boyfriend. Abe, however, didn't show any kind or reaction from seeing either Rosita nor Michonne though he had slept with one and tried to kill the other.

Mike and Spencer also followed Michonne into the room.

"Michonne!" Gregory said, expanding his arms and coming from behind his desk to embrace her. Michonne gave him one quick pat on the back to get the over-the-top greeting over with. She had seen the difference in the way he greeted her men versus how he greeted her. And there was quite a difference. She was pretty sure he hugged her just so he could feel her breasts against his chest.

Her suspicion was further supported when she saw him land a hug on Rosita as well and then go on to share handshakes with Mike and Spencer. Michonne and Rosita shared a scowl.

After greetings, Gregory went back behind his desk to sit down and offered the visitors from Alexandria Safe Zone the seats in front of his desk. "So...to what do I owe this visit?" He rang a bell and soon after his office door opened to admit a blonde with chin-length hair. "Emily, can you bring us some tea please?"

"Sure thing," Emily said, leaving the room once again.

Michonne thought about addressing Abe but she decided against it. There was something about the intense gaze of his eyes that purposefully never met her own that made her decide otherwise. Rosita must have also decided to follow this intuition because she didn't try to talk to him either.

"I'll get right to the point," Michonne said to Gregory. "The Saviors have attacked The Kingdom. And we need to know that we're on the same side in this."

Gregory's polite smile never faded, but Michonne could tell that there was no amusement there.

"And who is 'we'?" Gregory asked.

"Well, us..." Michonne said, gesturing to the four people who were sitting in front of him. "Rick, and the rest of The Kingdom. Those who managed to survive."

"Where is Rick?" Gregory asked, bypassing the rest of what she said.

"He's at the ASZ. He didn't think it was safe to leave since the Saviors have already decided to attack one of our allies."

"So he sent his woman to do his job."

Michonne's eyebrows raised. If she thought she would luck out and get an easier-to-deal-with, less annoying Gregory today – she knew then that she was wrong. Thankfully Emily came back in with the tea so Michonne didn't have to reply to his annoyingly superfluous remark. "Thank you," she said, when a warm cup of liquid was set in front of her. She took a sip and kept in mind to add this tea to their requested rations whenever it was time to trade with The Hilltop again.

"Yes, thank you, Emily," Gregory said, dismissing the woman. Then he turned his attention back to Michonne. "Sorry that I ran off right after the wedding by the way. I didn't have time to stick around for the festivities. How's married life treating you?"

Mike shifted in his seat and drank his tea deeply.

"It's fine," Michonne said.

"Really?" Gregory asked. "'Cause I would imagine that that Rick could be quite difficult. Has he slowed down on his womanizing since getting married? Abe here told me that he had gotten a little out of control recently."

Michonne sent a glare Abe's way but of course he still wasn't looking at her.

"We're not here to talk about Rick," Michonne said, redirecting their conversation to the real order of business. "We're here to talk about where you stand in all of this. Are you with us?"

"Of course I'm with you!" Gregory said. "As you know, I'm a peaceful guy; I don't want any trouble."

"Sometimes trouble can't be avoided. The Saviors are bringing trouble."

"They haven't been any trouble for _me_ ," Gregory said. "We have a nice deal worked out."

"A deal where they take more than half of what you produce through hard work without giving you anything in return? Gregory, you have so few supplies that you can't even trade properly anymore. That doesn't sound like a nice deal to me."

Michonne knew she must have stayed up too late because her eyelids felt heavy even in the middle of such an important discussion.

"What are you saying I do here, Michonne? I'm a peaceful guy! I'm not going to start trouble with them."

"You don't have to do anything," Michonne said. "Just see how many of your people feel comfortable fighting-"

"No," Gregory immediately said. "I'm not going to bring my citizens into this."

"They've already been brought into this! They're being threatened!"

"Threatened how?"

"Their food is being _stolen_! Their livelihood! And they don't even know anything! You can't keep them ignorant forever, Gregory."

"Not ignorant. Protected."

Michonne sighed and rubbed at her tired eyes. This was not going well. And it had to go well. It was a must that they get assurance that The Hilltop was with them in this fight.

"Gregory-"

Whatever Michonne's next words were going to be were cut off when a thud sounded from next to her. She looked over to see that Mike had fallen out of his chair, unconscious. Michonne was confused for only a second and then she had clarity. Her eyes widened and she stood from her chair, her hand on her sword. Rosita and Spencer's chairs were also scooted back from the speed with which they stood.

Michonne's sword was only halfway drawn when she saw the two other men in the room with their weapons drawn on them.

Michonne looked at the tea and then back at Gregory.

"Did you try to _poison_ us?" she asked incredulously. The tiredness of her eyes suddenly made much more sense. And she realized whatever was in the tea must have been pretty strong since she only took a sip and still felt some of the affects. All thoughts of an alliance went out the window. She was now only focused on getting out of this mess alive.

"The Saviors already came to me," Gregory said. "They said if I can deliver Rick to them that they would ease up on us. It's a disappointment that Rick couldn't come but they'd probably settle for you."

Michonne shook her head. "You're such a coward," she said.

Gregory shrugged. "Call me what you want. But you're the one with a gun to your head."

"She's not the only one."

Gregory froze when he felt the cold metal of a gun touch the back of his head. Abe was the source of the offending weapon.

Gregory's eyes grew to the size of quarters. "Abraham!"

"No need to sound so shocked. You're trying to get in with the biggest bullies on the playground and I'm just trying to do the same thing. Except my bet is on a different horse."

Michonne's eyes went from Abe to Gregory, wondering if she could trust what was happening.

"Put your guns down and slide them over," Abe said to the two unknown men in the room. "Or your boss gets a bullet to the head. And he didn't even have to start rotting to get the privilege."

"Slide the guns over," Gregory said without hesitation, his voice holding a slight tremor. The two men looked at each other and then slid their guns over to Abe.

Michonne drew her sword, now confident that this wasn't some kind of show. "What did you put in our drinks?" she asked Gregory, hoping it wasn't completely lethal. Mike's immobile body was starting to worry her.

"Rohypnol," Gregory answered.

Michonne nodded, relieved. As long as Mike hadn't ingested too much, he would be okay.

"What should we do?" Rosita asked. Both she and Spencer had now pulled their weapons.

Michonne's mind worked quickly. She nodded towards Abraham. "Where are Tobin and Riff?"

"They've already moved into homes here," Abraham said.

"Can I trust you?" she asked.

"Yes," Abraham said. "I acted too hastily before. I should've let the alliance between the Safe Zone and The Kingdom play out before I did anything too drastic. This wimp of a man-" he nudged Gregory's head with his gun, causing Gregory to wimper. "-made me realize what a horrible leader really is."

Michonne nodded, going with her gut. "I'm going to trust you," she said. "Big time. I need you to stay here and act as interim leader in Gregory's absence. I'm taking Gregory with me."

All blood flowed from Gregory's face. "Taking me where?" Gregory asked. "I-I'm not leaving. This is my community."

"I'm taking you to the ASZ," Michonne said. "And we can figure out what to do with you there."

"My people will never stand for this!" Gregory said fearfully.

Michonne turned to Abraham. "Do you think you can handle it?" she asked.

"Definitely," Abraham answered.

Michonne nodded again, thinking on her feet. "Spencer, can you grab Mike? We need to get back. Talk to Rick."

Spencer looked slightly flustered.

"Spencer!" Michonne called. "What are you doing? Grab Mike!"

Spencer seemed to struggle with himself more before he went to Michonne and whispered in her ear. "Rick kind of wanted me to kill Abe...I don't know what to do."

Michonne was shocked at first. And then angry. So Rick had sent Spencer on a secret mission to kill Abe. After telling her that it was completely up to her. "Don't," she said to Spencer. "Grab Mike. Gregory! Let's go."

Abe pushed Gregory from behind the desk and at the end of Michonne's blade, the cowardly leader left the room with the ASZers.

"Um...Michonne?" Rosita started.

"Yes, Rosita, you can stay," Michonne said without turning. They left the room and made their way back to their horses and carriages.

000000000000000000000000000000000000

Back at the ASZ, Rick was having his own problems. He hesitantly tried to wrestle a crying Andre into his clean clothes.

'How did I get here?' Rick asked himself, wishing he could go fight twenty Saviors rather than this kid's stubborn will.


	13. Chapter 13

\- If there are still any wandering Richonners on Spoil the Dead wondering where we are; we're at Tell it to the Dead DOT com. That's tellittothedeadDOTcom. -

Chapter 13:

Rick finally got Andre into his clean clothes but when he tried to pick the small child up, Andre kicked his feet making that action virtually impossible unless Rick wanted to sport a small bruise the next day.

"Are you going to keep acting like this?" Rick asked, his patience wearing thin. He locked his steely gaze with the kid's and raised his eyebrows. "Hm? I know you don't like me but you gotta deal with me. Matthew's not here right now."

Andre's features were drawn into a tight frown. He didn't like what he was hearing. "Where's Matt'ew?" he asked.

"He's taking care of something," Rick responded. He started to tie Andre's shoes. "And until he gets back...you're with me."

"I can do it!" Andre said, pulling his foot back from Rick. He put his foot on the stool that he was sitting on and began to try to tie his shoe. Rick watched him struggle with the bunny ears and held back on just tying the shoes for him.

His mind flashed back to his own son, Carl, struggling to tie his shoes in a reality that now seemed far away.

He shook his head, clearing it, and glanced at his watch.

One of the constructors had come to Rick's home, panicked, because it seemed that one of the walls might be giving way from the pressure that was now on it due to a new guard station that had been built against it. And with a lot of the men gone to either The Hilltop, to scope out the Saviors' base camp, or put on guard duty, the constructors were seriously lacking men. At that time, Matthew had come in and through – what Rick now considered a lack of judgment – he had quickly sent Matthew along to help the men and to recruit anyone else who wasn't doing anything at the moment. Then, before he knew it, he had been stuck with the kid.

Now he had to allocate guard positions, work on his next defensive move should the Saviors attack, _and_ babysit a child who made it no secret that this was the last place he wanted to be. Rick couldn't wait for Matthew to come back. He was considering going to volunteer on the wall himself. Just so he could give the child-sitting duties back to who they were meant for.

"Done!" Andre announced proudly.

Rick looked over to see that Andre's shoes were, in fact, tied. Both of them. Neatly. He found himself quite impressed. "Nice," he said. He remembered that Carl hadn't learned to tie his shoes until he was five years old. "Did your mom teach you that?"

"No," Andre answered. "Daddy. Mama's not around a lot." Andre's face suddenly grew downcast and Rick grew uncomfortable.

"What?" he asked hesitantly.

"This time Dad left too," Andre said in a small voice. "Is he going to start leaving a lot now too?"

Rick was surprised by the question and couldn't help but to feel some empathy for the kid who possibly didn't understand everything that was happening around him. "You know your mom only leaves because she cares about you," Rick said, regretting that he never got the chance to tell his son how much he cared about him.

Andre raised his chin. "I know," he said. "Dad reads me superhero books. Mama's like them." He played with the material on the stool as he spoke in his breathy kid voice. "That's why. I don't cry when she leaves."

Rick smiled, finding the young boy's intelligent yet stilted speech endearing. "Oh yeah?" he said teasingly. "I think I remember your mom telling me that you cried quite a bit when she first decided to come here."

Andre looked up with wide, insulted eyes. "I did not!"

Rick shrugged, implying that he was just repeating what had been said to him. "That's what she told me."

"I-I cried a little!" Andre rushed to explain in loud voice. "But it wasn't 'cause. I was sad or anything. It was 'cause. 'Cause she was gonna miss me."

Rick couldn't hold back a chuckle.

That was obviously a mistake because Andre crossed his arms and glared hard at Rick. He thought he was being laughed at and his senses had been offended. "It's true!" he declared. "Mama misses me a lot when she's gone!"

Rick tried to keep his face straight. "I know. I know she does," he said. He decided to redirect the conversation so that he didn't dig himself into a hole with the little boy even further. "How about we get something to eat?" he asked. "While we wait for Matthew, Mama, and Daddy to get back."

The scowl cleared a smidgen from the young boy's face. "Okay," he said, reluctantly. He let Rick help him down from the stool. "I want peaches. Like Mama fixes them."

"How does your mom fix them?" Rick asked, allowing the little boy to rush off to the kitchen ahead of him and following after.

"She cuts them pretty."

Rick sighed, wondering what in the hell "cutting them pretty" meant and glanced at his watch one more time. This time hoping that Matthew wouldn't appear until a little while later. At least until the boy had eaten his pretty peaches. Rick followed the sound of the small child's chattering, musing that it was something he hadn't heard in a long time.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

On the way back to the Safe Zone, Michonne watched a tied-up Gregory and nursed Mike back to health, who was slowly coming to. He was laid in the back of the carriage while it bumped over the road and Michonne held a soaked rag to his head to cool down his skin which seemed overly heated.

"Michonne," Mike whispered, struggling to open his eyes and keep them open.

"Right here," Michonne responded, still dabbing at his forehead.

"I've been thinking..." His voice was a barely there whisper.

"Well, that's never a good thing," Michonne joked, which prompted Mike to give a weak chuckle. She waited for him to gather himself enough to speak again.

"I...I miss you..."

Michonne's hand on Mike's forehead paused. She listened carefully to what he had to say.

"I know things got really messy between us..." Mike swallowed hard and it seemed as if he struggled to keep his thoughts in order. His eyes remained closed under heavy eyelids. "And I know we were always fighting. I was always pushing you away...But in the back of my mind, I was always thinkin'...we'd eventually work things out. You'd come over to play with Andre one day, I'd let you in, and it'd all just be good..."

Michonne continued dabbing at Mike's forehead with the wet towel and a derisive smile lifted one corner of her lips. At one time she had thought the exact same things. "You would never be okay with me continuing to go out and fight."

"I can work on it," Mike said. "I realize now that that's _my_ problem. I felt inadequate so I resented you for being the one to take care of us. To do what I couldn't."

Michonne's brow furrowed. "Why are you telling me this?" she asked. There had been plenty of times when she had wanted to talk before. Plenty of times when she would have longed to hear him say these exact words.

"Because..." Mike said. He struggled to open his eyes and look at Michonne's face. "You're...married. To some womanizer you don't even love?" He struggled to lift his arm and take her hand. "I know it's a shitty time to be telling you all of this, but I don't want it to be too late. I'm hopin'...it's not over between us. That we can still work things out."

Michonne was silently shocked at Mike's words. She glanced down at his hand holding hers and saw movement in the corner of her eye.

"Michonne!"

Michonne didn't need Mike's shouted warning. She saw Gregory's shadow rise up behind her and she ducked before a two-by-four connected with her head. She quickly spun around and swiped her legs underneath his to bring him crashing to the carriage floor. She then pulled the gun from her waist and aimed it at him, stopping him before his fingers could brush the two-by-four that he had dropped so he could wield it again. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," Michonne said.

Gregory glared at Michonne, knowing there was nothing he could do.

She tied him to the side of the carriage, where a protruding hook offered itself as a convenient anchor. "Try anything else and you're dead," she warned as she made sure to tighten the knot she had made. She finished tying him up and looked over at the pile of two-by-fours laid in the corner of the carriage, probably from some past run for construction materials. She shook her head, berating herself for not cleaning those up before deciding to transport a morally bankrupt man from point A to point B.

She glanced at Mike who was staring at her, obviously relieved that she was okay. She went back to his side to finish taking care of him. "We'll finish talking later, okay?" she said. She didn't have it in her to deal with Mike's proposal and Gregory all at the same time.

She hoped they would make it back to Alexandria quickly.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

They made it back soon enough. As soon as she came in a young man with sandy hair ran to inform Rick, as he had been instructed to do.

Michonne had Spencer, who had been steering the horses on the way back, grab a couple of men and take Mike to the infirmary. She then untied Gregory and pulled him from the back of the carriage, leading him by the rope he was tied up with.

"Where are you taking me?" Gregory asked.

"Where else?" Michonne responded. "The cell. We're going to see what Rick wants to do with you."

The blood flowed from Gregory's face. "You know," Gregory rushed to explain. "What I did – it wasn't personal. I was just scared. I was trying to keep my people safe."

"So you poison your allies?"

"The Saviors me!" Gregory said. "What was I supposed to do?"

"You were supposed to stand up to them! Be a leader! All The Saviors have is numbers. They have a lot of men. But there's nothing they can do if we band together. United front."

Rick came around the corner and paused in his tracks when he saw Michonne coming into town with a tied-up Gregory. Michonne paused as well when she saw Andre in Rick's arms. He was contentedly munching on peaches, the juice running down his chin. She had to remind herself that she was angry at Rick for the stunt he pulled with Spencer.

She yanked Gregory forward and met Rick halfway. "Mama!" Andre said, happy to see her.

"I told you to make a deal with him, not kidnap him," Rick said. There was no accusation in his voice, only a light teasing.

"He had already made a deal," Michonne said. "He was going to try to hand us over to the Saviors. Tried to poison us. I improvised."

Rick's expression became grave and he turned a cold stare onto Gregory. "You tried to poison my people?" he asked. Gregory began to try to stammer through an explanation again but Rick's cold stare didn't change. He handed Andre over to the young, sandy-haired boy and his fingers twitched beside the Colt Python at his hip.

Michonne interrupted, not wanting her son to be witness to an execution. "I thought we could lock him up in the cell until we figure out what to do with him," she said.

"Oh, I know what to do with him..." Rick growled.

"We should talk to him first," Michonne said, trying to reign Rick back in. "See what else he could have possibly told the Saviors about us."

That seemed to penetrate a little bit. Rick broke his hard stare with Gregory and gave Michonne a nod. She sighed, glad that didn't escalate. "Where is Matthew?" she asked Rick, wondering why he had Andre. "Did something happen?"

"No," Rick responded. "They just needed an extra hand with construction."

"And he left Andre with you?"

Rick wondered why her tone made it seem like that wasn't a good idea. "Yeah," he answered a bit defensively. "It worked out fine; there was no one else on standby." He tilted his head when Michonne only stared at him. There was something different about the way she was greeting him now and the way she had bid farewell to him at the gate. She seemed upset about something.

He cleared his throat. "Ethan," he said to the sandy-haired boy. "You and Michael-" He motioned a muscled man off of guard duty at the wall. "Take Gregory to the cell. Give Andre to his mother."

Ethan passed Andre over to Michonne and he and Michael did as Rick instructed.

"Mama," Andre said. "Rick made peaches. They weren't pretty like yours."

"Yeah?" Michonne asked. "Were you okay with Rick by yourself?"

Andre nodded.

Rick breathed an irritated breath through his nose. "I'm not some kind of monster; why are you asking him that?"

"Well, I don't know," Michonne said. "The last thing he told me was that he was scared of you and the next thing I know, I come back and find out he had to stay with you for..."

"A few hours. I only had him for a few hours. Besides...we managed fine. You're not scared of me anymore, are you Andre?"

Andre shook his head. "No."

"Do you really mean that?" Michonne asked. "Or are you just saying that because you're scared to say anything else in front of him."

Rick tsked. "I'm not scared, Mama," Andre said, wrapping his arms around Michonne's neck.

"I heard that Mike was moved to the infirmary," Rick said. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah," Michonne responded. She thought of what Mike had said to her on the way back and she shook her head. She would keep that to herself. Mike's well-being would be the last thing on Rick's mind if she told him.

"Who's in charge of Hilltop while Gregory is here?" Rick asked. "Do I need to send someone over?"

Michonne pressed her lips together before answering. "I left Abe in charge." Rick stopped in his tracks. "And Rosita's there with him."

Rick reached out and grabbed Michonne's arm so that she wouldn't keep walking. She turned around. He stared at her and Michonne was sure his mind was working to process that not only was Abe alive but she had left him in charge.

"What?" she asked. "Is something wrong? You told me you'd leave Abe to me, didn't you?"

Rick continued to stare at her but he released her arm and he sighed. He could tell from her glare that she had found what what he had told Spencer to do. And she wasn't happy with it.

"We'll talk when we get home," she said. She led the way. Rick followed after her.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

They set Andre up with some snacks and a babysitter they had propositioned on their way home – he was a young boy named Mikey – and then they had sequestered them away and made their way downstairs. They had a lot to discuss.

"You went behind my back and tried to have Abe killed."

"He deserved it."

"Why didn't you just tell me you still wanted him gone! You tell me to trust you and then go and do things like this!"

"You would've fought me on it," Rick said, glowering at her while he paced his office. "I don't have time to debate these things! I just need to... _act_!"

"That's the problem! You act without thinking!"

"Where has thinking gotten us?!" Rick asked, throwing his arms wide. "Maybe if we would've spent less time thinking and more time acting we could have gone after the Saviors and caught them before they struck! Maybe the Kingdom would still be here!"

Michonne drew back, hurt. Rick immediately regretted that he said it but he didn't apologize. He had too much pride.

"Fine," Michonne said. "You're the leader. I won't try to interfere anymore. You do whatever you want to. But may I request? Talk to Gregory _before_ killing him? And don't send out another hit on Abe until we see how he handles his new position. He saved our lives back there." Michonne threw open the door to Rick's office and then slammed it behind her.

Rick tried to rub away the sudden pounding in his forehead and then swept an angry hand across his desk, causing papers and a couple of books to go flying everywhere.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Rick spent the rest of the day making sure security at the wall was as tight as it could get. He wasn't in a rush to go talk to Gregory. He was going to let him wait. He knew the longer Gregory stayed locked up without anyone coming to speak to him, the more antsy and worried he would become. And that was exactly what Rick wanted. The man was a coward so it was only fair to let his cowardice work against him.

He didn't see Michonne much at all for the rest of the day except when she came to take her shift on the wall. And she ignored him so well that he may as well not even have been there.

So he was more than a little surprised when he came home that night and found her and Andre in the kitchen. She was preparing him a snack.

" _More_ peaches?" Rick asked, trying to see if he could just hit the reset button by pretending his and Michonne's argument never happened.

Andre laughed. But Michonne was stoic. She continued to cut the peaches and place them in a pretty pattern.

'Well,' Rick thought. 'At least I've gained headway with one of them.'

Michonne finished cutting the fruit and pushed the plate towards Andre. They were placed in a fancy, jagged circle.

"See?" Andre said, pointing them out to Rick. "Pretty."

"I see," Rick said. He took note that it was the actual placement of the fruit that was pretty and not the shapes in which the fruit was cut. He wished he had known that sooner. He had almost maimed himself two times over trying to cut pretty shapes.

"Andre is going to stay with us for a couple of days until Mike gets back on his feet," Michonne said, going to the sink and washing her hands.

"That's fine," Rick was quick to say.

He watched her dry her hands and then watched Andre eat his snack. He tried to think of a way to diffuse the heavy and silent tension. But Michonne beat him to speaking when Andre finished his snack. "I'm going to go put Andre to bed and then we can go ahead and get that deal out of the way."

"Uhh..." Rick spoke before she could leave the room. "You don't have to do that with me tonight." He didn't want to have sex when she was obviously not in the mood.

"No, tonight is fine," Michonne said. "Let's just get it out of the way."

Rick frowned, hating the way that sounded. She left the room as Andre's small voice piped up and traveled back to him. "Get what out of the way, Mama?"

"Just a game Rick and I are gonna play before bed."

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

When Michonne entered Rick's bedroom about twenty minutes later, Rick knew that she had been serious. She began to get undressed without looking at him. Rick clenched his teeth together. This was not how he wanted this to go. But if she thought he was going to stop her, she had another thing coming.

He wasn't going to let this go the way she wanted.

She began to pull her shirt up over her head but Rick stopped her. He held her hands still from behind, his arms wrapped around her and his chest pressed against her back.

Michonne tried to wrestle her hands free but Rick's grip tightened. He tucked his chin into her neck and placed a light kiss against her jawline. Michonne jerked away. "What are you doing?" she asked. "Let's just get this over with."

"No," Rick said. He placed a light kiss on her neck and then trailed his lips up to her ear where he took her earlobe gently between his teeth. His five o' clock shadow scratched her skin lightly as he went. Michonne tried to pull away from him again.

"I know what you're doing," Rick said against her ear, not letting her pull away from him. "And I'm not going to let you have your way."

He held her hands captive with one hand and began to unbuckle the belt on her pants with the other; he felt her body tense up. "First of all," he said. "I should apologize about what I said to you today. It's not your fault that the Kingdom was destroyed. The Saviors would have attacked one of the communities any way things went. And you were right about me needing the loyalty of my community before I try anything against them." He felt Michonne relax a little.

"And I want your help leading our people. I need it." Michonne's belt was unbuckled. Rick moved on to the button of her skin-tight black jeans. He kissed her shoulder. "I was wrong to send Spencer to kill Abe behind your back. I won't keep anything like that from you again."

Rick unzipped her pants. "How am I supposed to believe you?" Michonne asked, trying not to anticipate what he was going to do next.

"I'll prove it to you," Rick said. "Just give me another chance."

"It's going to take me a little while to trust you again."

"Did you ever completely trust me?" Rick asked.

Michonne couldn't answer.

Rick sighed. "That's fine," he said. "Just don't ruin what's going to happen between us tonight by telling me to get it over with." Rick's voice deepened to a dangerously low level. "If you want me to be quick, I'm going to make love to you so slowly that you'll think time has completely stood still. And you're going to enjoy every..." He slipped his hands down into her pants. "Second..." He dipped his hand between her thighs and was genuinely surprised to feel that he could already feel how wet she was through her cotton panties. "You're already wet..." he said, letting the slight surprise come through in his voice.

Michonne wrestled herself free of Rick's arms, embarrassed for not having more self-control.

She turned to Rick and voiced one of her concerns. "I'm afraid of what might happen after tonight."

"Don't be," Rick said, stepping close to her. His eyes pierced into hers. He felt like he had been waiting for this for a century. "It's just sex. You don't have to fall in love with me afterward."

He leaned forward and kissed her lips. Their first kiss since marriage. Her lips felt soft against his. "It's practical," he whispered, his lips brushing hers as he spoke. He felt her body relax more and more against his as he eased her into what they were about to do. "Just two people..." He pressed his lips against hers again. "Finding a way to enjoy themselves..." He flicked his tongue into her mouth. "During a long..." Kiss. "Political..." Kiss. "Marriage."

Michonne gripped Rick's shoulders and pressed herself against him as their kiss deepened. She hated this. But she loved it at the same time. Her mind knew that she had been truly angry a moment before but she no longer felt it. And she didn't know if it was because Rick had apologized or if she simply wanted him so bad that she had forgiven him pre-emptively.

She hated not being objective. Not thinking logically. Not feeling like she was completely in control of all of her faculties.

Rick slid his hand down from her waist and gripped her hip. Michonne stood on tiptoe and pressed herself more firmly against him, feeling his bulge through his jeans. She wrapped her arms completely around him and moaned into his mouth.

Rick pulled away and stared into her eyes. Her eyes contained unrestrained lust. Again, he was slightly taken aback by it. Either she was just sexually frustrated due to her dry spell or she desired him just as much as he desired her.

Whatever the reason, her passion was only fueling Rick's own. She stood higher on her tiptoes to press her lips against Rick's again but he pulled out of her reach.

"Take your pants off," he whispered, his voice dripping with need.

Michonne pushed her pants over her hips, stepped back, slid them down her legs, and then kicked them off.

"Now you," Michonne said, stepping back into his arms.

Rick unbuckled his jeans and let them fall down to the floor where he stepped out of them and kicked them away. The sight of Rick's erection pressing against his boxers caused Michonne's arousal to grow. She lifted his shirt and Rick assisted her in getting it over his head. Michonne's shirt followed.

Rick grasped Michonne's breasts and then his hands trailed down her sides to fall down and grip her supple behind. The sight of her half-naked before him was even better than he had imagined. "I want you," Rick whispered before pulling her forward to kiss her on the lips again.

Michonne nipped Rick's bottom lip. "Then take me, Rick Grimes."

Rick was done for.

He picked Michonne up and laid her on the bed, laying himself on top of her. Michonne opened her thighs readily so that he could nestle between them.

Their lips and hands were hungry as they explored each other. Rick began to fumble behind her and Michonne arched her back so that Rick could unhook her bra. He watched her breasts spill free and threw the bra aside. He gently trailed his tongue along the circular pathway that was her areola and then gave her nipple a gentle flick and a suck. He repeated the action on her other breast.

"Oh my God," Michonne whispered. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest from arousal, anticipation, and pleasure. She didn't know how much more of this she could handle if Rick continued to explore her body with such gentle precision.

Rick placed a gentle kiss between her breasts then trailed kisses down her stomach. To her thighs. Michonne's legs opened wider and her hips lifted upwards. She didn't have to speak to tell Rick what she wanted. Rick peeled her underwear off and her aroused scent reached him immediately. It drew him in. He placed his mouth over her center and flicked his tongue out to taste her. Michonne gasped and placed her hand on his head.

"Yes," she breathed.

Her positive affirmation prompted Rick to repeat the flicking of his tongue against her heated womanhood and he was rewarded with more moans. "Yes, yes."

He pushed his tongue inside of her and Michonne's hips lifted into the air. She gripped her fingers in his hair, holding him against her. "Oh, God. Yes." She fell back to the bed and Rick covered her clitoris with his mouth, letting his tongue flick against it gently. "Oh. God!" Michonne bit her lip between her teeth and groaned.

Rick smiled against her. Michonne was obviously a noisy lover. And he liked it.

He pushed his tongue inside of her again. Michonne began to pump against his face. Rick knew she was close. He continued to lick and suck at her until her muscles tightened and then she released, her juices coating his tongue.

"Mmm," Rick moaned, loving the taste of her.

Another wave of pleasure rolled through Michonne at the vibrations he caused.

She breathed heavily as Rick made his way back up her body, kissing her as he went. He kissed her neck, her ear, her jawline.

Michonne pushed his boxers down his hips. She was already ready for him to enter her and give her another orgasm. She stopped questioning why she wanted him so bad. She just knew she wanted him.

Rick slid his boxers the rest of the way down and then positioned himself at her entrance. He pushed the head of his member in and felt Michonne's walls envelop him – wet and tight. He pulled out.

He entered her again. Again, he pushed only an inch of himself in before pulling out. Michonne moaned, not enjoying his teasing.

He finally entered her again and this time he slowly pushed himself to the hilt. His eyes closed with the sensation of being inside of her completely. He realized he had wanted this since the moment he saw her ride up to meet him on her horse next to Ezekiel.

He thrust into her hard and deep. Michonne gripped his shoulders and watched the pleasure on his face. He thrust into her again and Michonne felt her body sing.

Rick grew into a rhythm, thrusting in and out of her, and his pace began to increase as passion built between the two lovers. A cacophony of pleasure sounds filled the room. The creak of the bed, the meeting of two bodies, and the moans and sighs of a man and a woman.

"Yes. Rick!" Michonne screamed, gripping his shoulders tighter.

She lifted her hips to meet him thrust for thrust. Sweat covered their bodies.

Rick stared at her from beneath hooded eyelids, wanting to stay inside her forever. He had never felt pleasure like this in the bedroom. "I'm going to come," he realized.

His statement only cause Michonne to become more passionate. She thrust against him wildly.

"Do you want me to pull out?" Rick gasped out.

"No," Michonne said, gripping his hips. "Stay inside me. Please."

Rick closed his eyes, losing it over the desperation in Michonne's voice. " _Fuck..._ " he cursed, pounding into her harder and faster. Michonne continued to match him thrust for thrust, their breathing aligned, and then it happened. They both shattered.

His hot seed filled her and her juices spilled out onto the sheets below.

They stayed wrapped together until the pleasure stopped coursing through their bodies. Rick fell over to his side of the bed and they just lay together, breathing heavily and staring up at the ceiling.

Michonne laid there and tried to convince herself that things hadn't completely changed.

Rick laid there and realized...he hadn't thought of Lori once. Not once.


	14. Chapter 14

Recap: Rick and Andre started to bond. Mike confessed that he still had lingering feelings for Michonne while they transported Gregory back to the ASZ after Gregory poisoned him. Upon arrival, Rick decides to wait Gregory out - hold him prisoner until he's close to breaking. Michonne confronts Rick about sending Spencer to kill Abe behind her back. Even though she's angry, she goes through with the deal they made before she left - to consent to sex once a week. And to her dismay...she may have enjoyed it.

 **Chapter 14: Distancing**

The dim light of an early morning creeped into Rick's darkened room as Michonne opened her eyes. Her gaze immediately landed on the digital clock atop the nightstand in front of her. The white numbers '5:30' glared bright. For a moment, her mind – dredging itself from sleep – had to catch up to where she was. But she quickly remembered.

Rick's room. The night before. They had had sex.

Michonne closed her eyes and held completely still. She could feel Rick's arm draped across her middle, his chest pressed to her back. He must have wrapped himself around her in the night.

She wondered if she would be able to maneuver out of bed without waking him, but she didn't have to wonder. She felt him stir against her and then felt him place two light kisses on her shoulder. She tensed. He was already awake. "Good morning," he rasped, his voice gravelly from sleep.

"...Good morning," Michonne answered, speaking quietly because the lack of light in the room seemed to demand it.

Rick's arm tightened around Michonne's middle and Michonne felt like she was strapped into the seat of an amusement park ride that she never wanted to get on.

Rick inhaled behind her; Michonne felt immense curiosity as to what he was doing. "You smell good," he said, as if in answer to her questioning thoughts.

Michonne turned over her shoulder to face him. His eyes were half-hooded with leftover sleep but he was looking at her. "...Are you sniffing me?" she asked. A sleepy smile crossed Rick's face and, to Michonne's dismay, looking at his smile and knowing she caused it created a small flutter in her stomach.

"Well, you smell quite good," Rick replied. "Is that something you use or do you just naturally smell like that?"

Michonne couldn't stop her playful side from coming out. "I just naturally smell like that," she ventured.

Rick sniffed again. He smelled flowers and some other fruity scent. He chuckled. "Yeah, right."

A chuckle escaped from Michonne as well. "Hey, I had to try," she said. "Men are a bit stupid when it comes to women's hygiene. There was a chance you could've believed it."

"You're right," Rick said. "Men are stupid. Especially when it comes to a woman like you."

Michonne felt that flutter in her stomach again. She pulled back to get a better view of Rick's face. He was looking at her with a gaze full of intensity and...something else. Something that scared her. Another chuckle escaped her, a nervous one this time, and she gently pulled at Rick's arm to loosen it. She was ready to get up, start the day, and not have to deal with this again until next week.

"Where are you going?" Rick asked, not letting her go.

"It's 5:35. I was going to go check inventory at the pantry before Olivia gets in at 6:30. She suffers from anxiety, and when she starts to talk about all of her worries I start feeling like I'm suffering from anxiety too."

Rick chuckled again. Michonne guessed that that meant he knew how Olivia could be.

"Once, I got stuck in a room with her and Denise," Michonne continued. "It was hell."

Another bout of chuckles shook Rick's body. Again, Michonne couldn't help but to smile. It was nice to see him laughing when she knew how stressed he was now and how ruthless he was just a few weeks ago.

But she didn't get the desired result of Rick letting her go. He pulled her closer and she could feel proof of his hardness pressing against her hip. She pulled in a short intake of breath and excitement sparked at her core.

"You don't need to check the inventory," Rick said. "I checked yesterday." He kissed her shoulder again. "It's the same as it has been. Ever since The Hilltop cut us off because of the Saviors, we're lacking food. Another two weeks and we'll need to be really worried. I'm thinking on what to do about it. But for now..." He kissed her neck. "Let's stay in bed..." He kissed the top of her shoulder and gyrated against her. "And not think about anything..." He kissed her neck again and then her jawline. Then her cheek, heading to her lips.

Michonne turned away from him, though her breathing was heavier. Rick pushed against her with his passion again. "No," Michonne said. "I told you. Only once a week."

"Why?" Rick asked. He turned her over so that he could look into her face. "You enjoyed it last night." He sounded confident, but Michonne could see the question in his eyes.

"I did," she assured him. He looked relieved. "But a deal's a deal," Michonne continued. "We drew a line between our business relationship and our personal relationship. And it's very important that we don't blur that line more than we already have."

Rick scrunched his face. "What business relationship? We're married! We've had sex. There doesn't need to be any line. What line?"

Michonne extricated herself from Rick's arms and sat up. She began pulling on her clothes. "You agreed to strictly business before. Just last night you said, it's just sex. Don't change your words now." She kept her voice steady and calm. There was no anger in her words, just facts.

Rick sighed and fell back onto the bed. "You were definitely a lawyer..." he muttered. He watched her stand up, her lithe form and perfect ass calling for him to bury himself within her once again. His member, hot underneath the cool sheets, grew harder still. He knew he would have to wait until she left the room before he could even begin to hope to will his erection away.

She continued to dress and he continued to think about how warm and wet she felt the night before. The way she clung to him and pulled at him – a stark difference to her cool and distant persona of today. He remembered how she begged for him to release his seed inside of her.

"You know, it probably wasn't wise what we did last night," he said, lifting himself up onto his elbow.

Michonne was almost completely dressed now. 'Is he thinking we made a mistake now too?' she wondered. "What?" she asked.

"Not using protection. Not sure if I'm ready to bring another child into this world." He thought about his son again and sadness pained his heart. Thoughts of Carl were never far from the surface of his mind.

"I think we'll be fine," Michonne said. "Doctors said I was lucky to be able to even conceive one child. Said it was almost impossible that I'd have another." She glanced at Rick. "I don't have the healthiest eggs," she said, by way of explanation.

"Oh," Rick said. He watched as she finished up dressing, curious to know more about her. "So what are you planning to do today? Besides checking inventory."

"I'll take your word on the inventory," Michonne responded. "Instead, I'll stay here. Go check on Andre, take a shower downstairs, make breakfast, take a shift on the perimeter...and then we need to deal with Gregory."

"I want to make him wait another day," Rick said. "No food. No water. He'd squeal everything the minute we just stepped into the room."

Michonne shrugged, not big on that idea. "Let's talk to him today..." she offered. "The sooner we know what's going on with the Saviors, the better."

"Fine," Rick said.

Michonne grabbed her sword and started to leave the room. "Can I get a kiss before you go?" Rick asked.

Michonne looked back at him, honestly tempted. But she held strong. "Those are once a week too," she said. She smirked when Rick pouted and she left the room.

When she closed the door behind her, she leaned against it with a sigh. She knew that all of the talk about lines was more talk than anything. Rick was right. Any lines they had drawn between them were already muddied to hell. And she had a sneaking suspicion that she was already thirty feet deep in an ocean without a floor. And sinking further every minute.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Cold water ran over Rick's body in pressured streams. A smile formed across his face. He shook it away when he realized it was there, though. He didn't know what had gotten into him. Well...that was a lie. He knew. But he was still puzzled by the experience.

He had slept with many women before. All of them only serving as a distraction or reminder of his past wife. None of them had consumed him like Michonne had last night. Like she continued to do this morning.

Her scent was still strong in his nostrils. Her moans were still loud in his ear.

Maybe her draw was the fact that she didn't bend to him like the other women did. She was his equal and chose to give herself to him. Or maybe it was the fact that he took joy in controlling her body in the bedroom – making such a strong woman moan and squirm for him. Or maybe it was the fact that she controlled _him_. Rick wasn't sure what the draw was. All he knew was that this was different. Different than anything he had ever experienced before.

He stepped out of the shower, dried himself off, and dressed. He wore a blue button-up and black jeans. His fingers were eager as they buckled his belt. He smelled breakfast and heard noises from downstairs. He was eager to join the commotion.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Rick walked into the kitchen and saw Michonne at the stove. She was cooking bacon and holding Andre on one hip. She had changed her outfit to a large white top - belted at the middle – tight pants, and boots.

"Let me take him," Rick said, hurrying forward to take Andre.

"Thanks," Michonne said, handing him over.

Enticed by how beautiful she looks, Rick didn't think twice about leaning over and giving Michonne a quick kiss on the cheek as he took her son into his arms. Michonne turned to look at him in surprise. "It's just kisses on the lips that are off limits, right?" he whispered with a mischievous smirk.

Michonne frowned. She was not amused. Especially not by the way those rogue butterflies continued to assault her stomach. But Rick had already turned to the breakfast table with Andre and was putting him in a seat. Michonne shook her head. 'Be careful, Michonne,' she reminded herself.

"When's your birthday?" Rick asked, as they sat around the table eating breakfast.

"The spring," Michonne answered.

"Specifically...?" Rick prodded.

"My birthday's in five days!" Andre announced, interrupting.

Michonne smiled. "Is it?" Rick asked.

"Yep!" Andre said happily. "I'll be turning five."

Rick looked to Michonne for affirmation and she nodded. "Well, we're going to have to throw you a party," Rick said.

"Yay!" Andre cheered.

"Don't get him excited," Michonne reprimanded Rick. "Why are you promising a party when you're not even the one that has to plan it?"

"I'll plan it!" Michonne stared at Rick disbelievingly. "I will!" he pressed.

"Okay," Michonne said in a tone that gave away how much she still didn't believe him. "You hear that, Andre?" she said. "Rick's planning your party. So don't get mad at Mama if you don't get what you want."

"Don't let her discourage you, Andre," Rick said. "What do you want for your party? I'll make sure you have it."

Andre started listing things from Tonka trucks to a big water slide. Michonne wasn't even sure where he had heard about all of the things he listed. Probably Mike. Michonne quickly diverted her thoughts from Mike and the last thing he had confessed to her. With all of the other things on her mind, she couldn't think about how he had pretty much said that he wanted to start things up with her again. She, instead, focused on Rick and how attentive he was being while listening to her son. She had no idea what had gotten into him today, but it was making her feel things she didn't want to feel.

She eyes focused on Rick's lips and she didn't even notice when he turned his attention from his son to her.

"Michonne?" Rick asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

"Huh?"

"I was saying now you have to tell me what your birthday is."

Michonne pulled herself together. "It's always me answering questions," she said. "Why don't you tell me when _your_ birthday is?"

"It's April," Rick said with no hesitation. "April twenty-first."

Michonne smiled. "Another spring chicken. I'm March. March third."

Rick nodded. "I'll keep that in mind," he said with a smile before taking a drink of his homemade orange juice.

"Why? Are you going to throw me a party too?" Michonne asked.

"Whatever you want," Rick answered.

Michonne's smile faltered. Again, she was taken aback by Rick's much too earnest words and his deep gaze. She didn't understand what he was pulling. Last night, she had expected that they would have sex and then get back to business as usual. But Rick was acting strange. Like there was...more...to what happened the night before. And Michonne couldn't have 'more'. She wasn't ready for 'more'. She quickly changed the subject.

"More eggs?"

000000000000000000000000000000000000

The rest of the breakfast proceeded pretty seamlessly. Michonne was happy to get out of there though. She was going to keep Andre with her as she she patrolled around the perimeter, but Rick offered to keep Andre with him in his office while he plotted out where to build more guard posts. Andre seemed happy with that idea, so Michonne let them be.

She stepped out of the house with her sword on her back and enjoyed the light breeze of the day. She was in a pretty good mood. She decided not to ponder too much on the 'why' of her good mood; she decided to just enjoy it.

As she was walking to the front gates, she noticed someone standing forlornly at the grave plot.

It was Jessie. She was standing at Pete's grave with slumped shoulders, engulfed by a large, plaid shirt and rubbing the shirt tails absentmindedly between the tips of her fingers.

Michonne thought to keep walking but compassion and curiosity caused her to stop and walk towards the other woman. "Jessie?" she called, getting the woman's attention. "You okay?"

Jessie looked up to see Michonne and quickly wiped tears that were on her face. "Yeah," she said. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Michonne figured 'fine' must have acquired a new definition after the world ended. Because Jessie didn't look 'fine' at all.

"It's just..." Jessie continued. She seemed to want to say something but didn't know what to say. "Are you happy?" she finally asked Michonne.

Michonne hadn't been expecting the question, but she answered it. "Every day that I'm alive is a day that I'm happy." And it was true. Nothing could be taken for granted in such a brutal world. Especially not each new day that she was able to open her eyes.

Jessie nodded. "I wish I had that outlook." She looked down at Pete's grave and fiddled with the shirt again. "This is Pete's shirt," she said. Her short, messy ponytail shifted gently in the breeze as she spoke. "And I don't even know why I'm wearing it." She glanced over at Michonne, who was still listening. Fresh tears were in Jessie's eyes. "He used to beat me," she said, needing to unload on someone. "Some days I would have to pretend that he knocked me out just so he would stop."

A sympathetic frown appeared on Michonne's face.

"I can't remember the last time I was happy," Jessie continued. "Not even before all of this." Anger entered her voice. "I thought Pete was the source of all my problems. That if he was out of the way, then everything would be good again. But he's gone now. And everything still seems so...pointless..."

Michonne's brow furrowed. She had seen Jessie going around the community with two boys in tow. "Don't you have kids?" Michonne asked. "If nothing else, you can look forward to seeing them grow. Seeing them thrive and be happy and fed. That's what kept me going when I was at my lowest. The thought that I was going to get my son to a place where he could be safe and have some semblance of a life."

Jessie looked at Michonne, her eyes still sad. " _Can_ they be happy in this world?" she asked. "Is it possible?"

"It is," Michonne said. "It has to be. And if it's not...well, I'll try my hardest to _make_ it possible."

Jessie nodded and wiped her eyes, deciding not to cry anymore. "I've seen your son around," she said. "He's cute," she said. "And lucky to have a mom like you. If you ever need someone to babysit while Mike is injured..."

"Thanks for the offer," Michonne said. "But that's okay. I think Rick is trying to bond with him."

Jessie smiled tremulously. "Never thought I'd see the day when Rick Grimes became a family man."

'Neither did I,' Michonne thought.

"I know you hear a lot of gossip about Rick," Jessie said to Michonne. "About all the stuff he's done and is doing...but he's really not as bad as some people make him out to be." She hesitated, wondering if she should voice what she was going to say next. "Funnily enough, the happiest I've been since all of this started is when I was with Rick..."

Michonne was slightly taken aback by the sudden revelation. Her eyebrows rose.

"Maybe I shouldn't be so blunt," Jessie said. "But...he's a good man."

The bitter irony of Jessie standing over her husband's grave – the husband that Rick, himself, killed – while saying that isn't lost on Michonne. She nods. Ever since she came to the community, Jessie has advocated for Rick. At first she thought it was just because Jessie was a nice woman who respected a leader that kept her alive but now Michonne was thinking it was deeper than that. "Yeah," Michonne said, ready to excuse herself from the conversation. "Well, I hope you figure things out."

"Yeah," Jessie said. "I do too."

Michonne nodded one last time and then walked away. She wondered how many other women harbored a secret crush on Rick Grimes. How many women had he fooled into believing he cared for them?

Jeanine, the brunette who came to visit Rick three nights before their wedding, passed in front of Michonne. She avoided eye contact.

Michonne adjusted her sword on her back. 'Right,' she thought. 'This is why you drew that line, Michonne. Don't forget that.'

She continued to walk towards the edge of town when she saw one of Jessie's sons – the older one – darting off behind a building. He was looking over his shoulder as if he was afraid of being caught and he was headed for the wall. 'What is he doing?' Michonne wondered. She turned over her shoulder towards the graves. Jessie was no longer in sight. 'I don't have time to look for her,' Michonne thought, as she had already lost sight of the brunette boy.

She hurried off after him.

000000000000000000000000000000000000

Rick walked down the streets of Alexandria, towards where he knew the construction crew would probably be working today. Blueprints of the new guard posts he wanted built were in one hand and he held Andre in his other.

The arm holding Andre was becoming tired.

"Why do you like being carried everywhere?" Rick asked. "If you don't start walking more, people are going to start looking down on you. You're a big boy; you should act like a big boy."

"I'm not fast," Andre said. "I can't keep up. If I can't keep up, the things can catch us."

Rick didn't have to ask what the 'things' were. He knew. He felt a mixture of anger and sadness. This little boy had already been attuned to life on the road. His small legs weren't fast enough to keep up with an adult's and he must have found that out on the outside. So now he was afraid to trail behind even while they were behind walls – for fear that the walkers would get to him and his family.

Rick stopped and looked at Andre. "There are no 'things' inside these walls," he said. "You see over there? And over there?" He pointed at the walls surrounding the community. "No 'things' are getting inside. Look. We even have people standing...waiting and watching for the 'things' to even _try_ to get inside. If they try, they take them out. So you don't have to be worried about not being able to keep up in here. In here...we're not running. You got that?" Andre nodded. "So you wanna try walking?"

"...Yeah..."Andre said, still sounding slightly unsure.

"Okay," Rick said, putting him down on the ground. "Here we go. I promise nothing will happen to you in here."

Andre's feet hit the ground and he immediately grabs ahold of Rick's pants leg as Rick stands up. "See?" Rick said. "Nothing to be scared of."

Rick begins to walk, careful to keep at a slow pace, and Andre walks beside him – holding onto the fabric of Rick's pants.

"Hey, Rick!"

A voice stops Rick and Andre in their tracks. Rick turns around to see Glenn walking toward him with a smile on his face. "I see you got the little guy with you today," Glenn said. He waved at Andre with an exaggerated smile and Andre waved back with his free hand.

"Yeah," Rick said. "Taking these blueprints to the construction crew." He slightly lifted his hand with the rolled-up blueprint.

"Cool," Glenn said. "Well, I won't keep you. I was kind of just wondering if you wanted to come to Maggie's baby shower in two weeks."

"Baby shower? Maggie's pregnant?!" Rick asked, shocked to hear it.

Glenn laughed. "Yeah," he said. "For about a month now."

Rick looked completely lost. "Where have _I_ been?" he asked.

"I don't know," Glenn said. "But I'm glad to see you're coming back."

"Yeah..." Rick said, wondering what else he had been missing out on in the lives of his people. "Yeah. Me too."

"So, you gonna be there?" Glenn asked.

"Yeah, I'll be there."

"Great. See you the-"

Glenn and Rick were interrupted when Matthew came running up to them. "Transport from the Hilltop," Matthew reported.

Rick's eyebrows shot up and he got ready to rush off to the entrance but he was aware of Andre holding onto his pants leg.

"I can take him if you want," Glenn said, seeing Rick's predicament. "I need practice anyway."

Rick glanced around, wanting to run the idea by Michonne, but of course she was nowhere in sight. "Okay," he said quickly to Glenn. He looked down at Andre and knelt to his level. "Andre, is it okay if I leave you with Glenn for a little bit?"

Andre nodded.

"Good," Rick said. "And remember. Babies get carried. Big boys walk." Andre nodded again and Rick rubbed his head. "Good." He then stood up and followed Matthew. "Where?" They ran off.

It's not long until he's at the front gate and he's greeted with a carriage driven by Rosita. Crates are already being unloaded from the back. Rick sees grain, rice, beans, and other foodstuffs. "What is this?" Rick asked.

"Turns out Gregory had been holding out on us," Rosita said, hopping down from the transport. "They had a whole warehouse stocked full. And are farming more. Plus, unlike Gregory, we won't be giving half of our stuff to the Saviors. So that means extra for you, us, and the Kingdom. It's a fucking goldmine."

Rick looked at the food; it was a veritable pot of gold – especially with their meager pantry at the moment. He looked around and saw that the citizens of the community were excited and chattering happily while looking at all of the food supplies.

"What do you want in return?" Rick asked an obviously excited Rosita.

Rosita shook her head and grew serious. "Nothing," she said. "This one's on us. It's Abe's peace offering. An olive branch to ask for forgiveness." Rosita glanced downward. "I heard about what he did and I just-" she shook her head, anger in her eyes. "He's such an idiot!" She followed with something in Spanish, something Rick couldn't understand but he was sure it wasn't good. "But he's genuinely remorseful and he's asking for forgiveness."

Rosita extended her hand towards the food. "I don't know if it's enough to make up for him trying to kill you, but...it's the best we could do."

Rick looked at the food, then at Rosita. He nodded. Rosita let out a breath of relief. "But don't cut off the Saviors just yet," Rick said. Rosita looked at him questioningly. "Let them think the deal is the same as before. They may already know about the sudden change of leadership at Hilltop, but if they don't, we can still surprise them. Keep it business as usual until then."

Rosita smirked. "Business as usual," she agreed. "Sure thing."

Rick turned around. Everyone was waiting with bated breath as he and Rosita hashed things out. "Everyone!" he announced. "Looks like we have food for the winter! Let's load this stuff into the pantry!"

Cheers went up around the community. Rick looked around for Michonne, wanting to share the celebration with her. It seemed that she had made the right call with Abraham. His eyes swept the crowd, but he didn't find her. A sigh escaped his lips.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

At the edge of the wood surrounding the community, Michonne caught up to Jessie's son. She placed her hand on his shoulder. "Hey," she said. "What are you doing out here?"

Startled to find that he wasn't alone, Ron jumped back at Michonne's touch. "Geez! What are you doing?"

"That's what I just asked you," Michonne replied. "It's dangerous out here. We should go back."

"Why?" Ron asked. "There's nothing back there."

Michonne frowned. "Your family's back there."

"What family?" Ron asked. "Dad's dead and...and Mom's been gone for a long time. My brother's too scared to come out of his room."

Michonne cocked her hip to the side. She felt like she had been playing social worker all day. This wasn't her job. Not even before the apocalypse. "So what are you doing?" she asked. "Running away?"

"No," Ron said. "At least not yet."

"What do you mean 'not yet'?"

"There's a kid out here who's pretty cool. Seems to come from a pretty cool place too. Says I can go there if I want. But first he's gotta learn more about me."

Warning bells went off in Michonne's brain. "More about _you_ or more about the community you come from?" she asked.

"Both," a voice answered from behind Michonne. "I thought I told you to come by yourself, Ron."

Michonne started to draw her katana from its sheath. "Uh-uh," the voice said. The hammer of a gun cocked backward. "Put the sword down and turn around slowly."

Michonne quickly glanced around to see if she could see anymore people around than the one who was currently holding her at gunpoint. He seemed to be alone. She took the sword off of her back and held it to the side as she turned around.

She was surprised at what she saw. She had known that the person who had showed up would be a young boy, judging from his voice but she didn't know he would be _this_ young. He was no older than Ron. His hair was slicked back and he wore a leather jacket. It was the style of the Saviors. The thing that stood out the most to her, though, were his eyes. Familiar, vivid blue eyes.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

 **Author's Note: Carl is 13 in this story. So is Ron. Carl was 11 at the beginning of the outbreak (when Rick lost him). And whoops...there's Jessie again. Haha.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15: Keeping Moving and Moving On**

The sunlight barely filtered through the heavy leaves of the forest and a tense silence filled the air.

"Drop it," the young boy with blue eyes said again.

Michonne released her grip on the handle of her sword and it went crashing to the leaves below. She could already tell this was no ordinary kid she was dealing with. "Who are you?" she asked, stalling for time as her mind worked on ways to get out of this predicament.

The young boy squinted his eyes and tilted his head in a cocky manner. Again, Michonne was struck with a feeling of familiarity.

"I don't think you're in the position to be asking any questions," the boy said. "Ron, get her sword and bring it to me."

Michonne heard no movement from behind her. She knew that Ron must be standing there with a shocked expression, wondering what he should do. "Rick, what's going on?" Ron asked, his voice shaking slightly.

Michonne stared with new interest at the kid with his gun trained on her. "Rick?" she asked. "Your name's Rick?" And then she realized that that's who he had been putting her in mind of all along. The blue eyes, the cockiness...funny that they even shared the same name. She was bemused by it even when she knew she didn't have the luxury of being bemused.

"I don't think that's any of your business, is it?" the boy who called himself Rick said. "Ron, bring me the sword."

There was another long moment of inaction from Ron and then Michonne heard leaves crunch as he began to move. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him squat down and begin to lift her sword up off of the forest floor. As he began to move past her to take the sword to Rick, she acted. She twisted the sword from his grip and pressed Ron to her chest with her blade against his neck before either he or Rick could even blink.

Rick tightened his grip on his gun and looked on in confusion at the sudden, unexpected turn of events. Ron released frightful breaths. "What are you doing?" Rick asked. A smirk lifted his lips. "We're not friends; I don't care if you kill him."

"And I don't care if _you_ kill him either," Michonne said. "That's why he's here between me and your bullet. By him being here, your chance of shooting and wounding me fatally has decreased by seventy-five percent. You could always risk a headshot but...can you really do it?"

Rick's brow furrowed. "Yes, I can," he said defensively.

"I don't think so," Michonne said. "Your aim is off by about mmm...three inches."

"No, it's not," Rick argued. He looked confident, but after a couple of seconds, Michonne saw his eyes glance down at his weapon. And then, almost imperceptibly, he moved his arm to the left a couple of inches. She hid a smile. She had successfully shaken his confidence.

"Your gun doesn't have a silencer," Michonne continued. "We're not that far away from my community. If you shoot and miss, all of the guards inside _there_ will come running out _here_. And then what will you do? You don't seem to have any backup."

The muscles in the young boy's jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth together. He was frustrated.

"So what's it gonna be?" Michonne asked. "You plan to take us hostage? Kill us? Or are you gonna let us go? I can tell you right now that the only option you have is the third one. Because I'm not going to let anything else happen." She glanced down at Ron who had his fists clenched – tense, at his sides. "Not to me at least." Michonne returned her eyes to the boy's and faced him with an unwavering stare.

The young Rick considered his options. He hated feeling at a loss. Everything had gone sideways the minute the crazy woman had taken one of her own hostage to ensure her own safety. He didn't know what to do about that. She was too unpredictable. He had apparently underestimated the ruthlessness of the ASZ residents. Or at least this one in particular. "You can't scare me," he said.

Looking into his eyes, Michonne saw that that was true. The boy wasn't afraid. "That's a shame," she said. "Being scared is being human."

"Are _you_ scared?" the boy asked.

Michonne replied. "Every day that I'm alive."

Michonne glimpsed movement through the trees and near the ASZ walls, and closer inspection revealed Daryl, Spencer, and a few more of the ASZ guards. "Uh-oh," Michonne said. "Even your third option is gonna disappear if you don't make up your mind soon."

The young boy glanced in the direction that Michonne indicated to him and he saw the men beginning to start toward the woods. "Shit," he said. "Whatever." He began to back away with his gun still raised. "We'll be seeing all of you soon enough anyway." He backed away until he felt he was at a safe distance, then he turned and disappeared quickly into the trees.

When she felt sure that he was gone, Michonne released an indignant Ron.

"What the fuck was that?" he asked, glaring at her angrily.

"Watch your language," Michonne said, sheathing her sword again. " _That_ was keeping us both alive. I didn't see you coming up with any ideas." Ron touched his neck, making sure there wasn't a scratch there. "Now stop coming out here and talking to strangers," Michonne continued. "It's too dangerous."

"I thought he might need some help," Ron said. "Thought he might be on his own and that we could bring him into the community..."

"You don't need to worry about that. Let the recruiters handle that. You just focus on staying inside and behaving."

Ron glared. "I'm not a little kid."

"Good. Then stop acting like one." Michonne grabbed Ron by the back of his neck and pushed him out in front of her to get him walking back towards the ASZ. He shrugged her off angrily but walked in the direction that she pointed him.

Michonne emerged from the woods and saw Daryl about to head into them with his crossbow at the ready. "Daryl," she called. He turned to her at the sound of his name and trotted over to her.

"Hey, there you are," he said. "I was about to go out hunting when Rick caught me and told me to see if you were out here. I saw you heading toward the wall earlier and told him I thought you might be."

Michonne nodded. She thought about whether to tell Daryl about the kid she had just run into for only a moment before she spoke. "There's a kid whose with the Saviors out here," she said. It was too dangerous to leave any stone unturned or keep any important news to oneself. "He's got dark brown hair and blue eyes. If you find him, capture him and bring him back. We can probably get information out of him."

"Will do," Daryl said with a nod of his head. "I'll keep you posted." He nodded his head at the brooding teen next to Michonne. "Wassup?"

Ron glared at him and rubbed his neck one more time. "Nothing," he mumbled, still grumpy.

Daryl threw a questioning look to Michonne; she simply shrugged her shoulders. When Daryl bid himself farewell, Michonne and Ron started back on their way to the ASZ. Michonne stared at Ron's slumped shoulders.

"I wasn't going to let him kill you, you know," she finally said. "It was all just for show."

"Yeah, whatever," Ron grumbled.

00000000000000000000000000000000000

After dropping Ron off at his house, Michonne's trek to her own house was a short one. She entered the kitchen to find Rick going through some cupboards. He didn't realize she was standing there at first. She stood in the doorway and took advantage of the normalcy she was witnessing before her. She could almost stand here and forget that they were living in a world full of dead things. She could almost forget that just a few moments before, she had been being held at gunpoint by a thirteen-year-old and that she, herself, had threatened the life of another thirteen-year-old in return.

"Damn it!" Rick cursed, as a salt shaker tumbled from the cabinet as he was moving things around. It spilled some of its contents.

Michonne took that moment to make herself known. She put the salt shaker back into the cabinet while Rick raked the loose spillings into his hand and threw it into the trash can. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"You're back!" Rick said, slightly surprised. "I wasn't expecting you back for a little bit more."

"Yeah, Daryl came looking for me. Said he coincidentally saw me while he was preparing for a hunt..." Rick wiped his hands of any remnant salt crystals and moved around Michonne back to the stove; he was avoiding her eyes. This made Michonne's passing suspicion more sound. "You still have them following me?"

Rick deflated, knowing he had been caught. "Not following you. Just looking out for you."

"I can look out for myself," she said. Then she thought back to what had just happened. "But I'll let you off for today," she said. "It was a good thing Daryl knew where to look for me."

"Did something happen?" Rick asked, turning to face her with a frown on his face.

"Ran into a Savior," Michonne answered. When Rick pulled himself to his full height with a glare on his face, Michonne held her hand up to keep him from puffing up any further. "He was by himself. And he was a teenager. So I was able to handle him pretty easily. I sent Daryl looking for him though. To see if we can get some information. Like where they're holed up."

"Oh, we'll get more than information from him if Daryl brings him back here," Rick stated harshly. "He's going to tell us everything he knows. And then we're going to kill him."

Michonne sighed. "He's just a kid, Rick."

"That doesn't matter now, Michonne. A threat is a threat. If we catch him, we can't very well just interrogate him then send him back home with a gift basket. It doesn't work like that. We're in the middle of a war."

Michonne slid up onto the counter. She didn't say anything; she was deep in thought. She understood where Rick was coming from, but there was no way that she thought things could or should be that simple. A dry chuckle escaped her lips as she thought back on the kid and she decided to change the subject. "There was something about him that reminded me of you," she said.

"Who?" Rick asked. "That kid?"

Michonne nodded. Rick didn't know how to feel about that. "You met an enemy and you thought about me?" he asked.

Michonne laughed. "Pretty much." She watched Rick's brow furrow further and she smiled. She knew it shouldn't give her this much pleasure to watch him fret, but she thought it was cute how personally he seemed to take any comment that made it seem to him that she didn't think that highly of him.

"How?" he asked.

"He had blue eyes like you," Michonne said. "And he even tilted his head in the way you do sometimes. And even his name was Rick." She watched him start to bring a pot of water to a boil. She didn't pay much attention to it. "By the way...when are we gonna go talk to Gregory?"

"Tonight," Rick answered. "After we eat- Damn it!" He knocked off a bowl of noodles that had been sitting on the other side of the counter. Quite a few hit the floor but the bowl landed upright, saving the majority.

It finally hit Michonne that Rick was fussing around in the kitchen. She had never seen him do this. They usually just grabbed a can of something simple and ate whenever the need struck. "What are you doing?" she asked, hopping down off of the counter to help clean up the spilled noodles. "Why are you making a mess of the whole kitchen?" She squatted down to pick up the bowl while Rick picked the spilled noodles off of the floor and then followed up with a paper towel, wiping away the moisture.

"I'm trying to make you dinner," Rick said, frustration heavy in his voice. "Lasagna. It's a recipe my mother knew."

Michonne stopped to stare at Rick. The bowl of noodles was still in her hands as she had yet to stand and put them back on the counter. Rick was wiping unnecessarily hard at the floor, his brows furrowed into an angry frown. "Why are you making me dinner?" Michonne asked, feeling silly about the way her heart was pounding in her chest.

Rick finally stopped wiping at the floor and, with a frustrated sigh, wiped the back of his wrist across his forehead before he stood to throw the paper towel and noodles away. Michonne stood as well and sat the unsullied bowl of noodles back where they had fallen from. "Rosita brought us a large amount of food from the Hilltop," Rick said. "As long as we ration, we're going to be good on food for a while. You were right about Abraham."

"That's why you're making me dinner?" Michonne asked.

"That," Rick said as he turned to face her. His eyes met hers with an intense gaze. "And I just wanted to do something special for you."

Michonne once again found herself fighting against those rogue butterflies in her stomach, trying to keep them at bay. "Is Andre in his room?" she asked, quickly changing the subject. She turned to go check on him.

"No, he's with Glenn," Rick answered. "Glenn wanted to get a little practice in before his baby comes. I went to go pick him up, but Andre had already gone down for a nap."

Michonne nodded. "Oh," she said. 'No buffer then,' she thought despairingly.

"Anyway," Rick said. "I intended to have the lasagna already in the oven and baking before you came back. But now I'm just making a mess. Maybe you're making me nervous." He flashed a winning smile and made his way back to the stove to pour the noodles into the boiling water. Michonne gave him a wide berth.

He rolled up his sleeves and Michonne admired his forearms as he continued to prep the lasagna. She remembered the strength of his arms and hands; it had been apparent in the way he had handled her the night before. She tore her eyes away. There was that feeling again. The feeling like she was falling without a safety net.

"I'm not her, you know," she said.

Rick glanced over at her. "Her who?"

"I'm not your wife. The wife you had before the apocalypse. I'm not her." Rick stopped stirring the noodles around in the boiling water, put on the lid, and then he turned to look at Michonne. His expression was unreadable. "And I'm not some replacement for her either. Neither is Andre. We're not stand-ins for the family that you lost."

Rick squinted his eyes and rubbed his brow with his thumb. "Where is this coming from?" he asked.

"I just want to make sure there are no misunderstandings..."

"There aren't," Rick said. "I still miss them, but I'm not with them when I'm with you. And that's a first for me..." He glanced downward as he admitted his vulnerability.

"And I don't know why that is," Rick continued; his eyes flashed up to meet Michonne's and instead of vulnerability, they flashed intensity. "But I don't mind taking the time to figure it out." He advanced on Michonne and she put up a warning hand to stop him.

He stopped.

"...Your water's going to boil over," Michonne said. Rick turned to the pot of boiling water and saw that it was far from boiling over. When he looked back, Michonne had moved past him and was at the door of the kitchen. "I'm going to go check on Andre," she said. "I'll bring him back for dinner."

She left before Rick could say or do anything else. If she couldn't distance herself emotionally, she could at least do it physically.

00000000000000000000000000000000000

The young boy with blue eyes huddled under the blanket in the back of the unsuspecting latina's carriage. He knew that if he would have kept going in the woods, the man with the crossbow would have caught up to him eventually. He couldn't seem to shake him. So when he had seen a carriage stopped along the road up ahead, with the driver presumably off for a quick bathroom break, he had taken advantage of the situation.

He now crouched hidden, waiting for his next moment to exit the transport. He was waiting for a moment when he thought it would be safe, but he also knew he needed to make an exit soon. He recognized the horses drawing the carriage. They were the kind of horses breeded at the Hilltop. If he didn't get out before they reached the Hilltop, he wouldn't be getting back to the Sanctuary until after nightfall.

He huddled down beneath the itchy, uncomfortable fabric and fumed. He felt embarrassed. He had gone on a solo mission and been defeated. He hadn't known what to do in the clench of the moment and that was unacceptable to him. 'I'm going to get inside those walls,' the boy thought. 'If it's the last thing I do.'

000000000000000000000000000000000

The blue-eyed teen managed to escape the horse-drawn carriage when the woman stopped again for another bathroom break. He was grateful for her small bladder when he walked up to the gated Sanctuary community a couple of hours later. The sun was just about to set in the sky.

He glared up at the guards on the wall as they highlighted him with the light taped to the scope of their rifles.

"Who's there?" one of the guards asked. The voice was rough and it was coming from a burly figure, but the young boy knew the teenager to just be an older kid, about seventeen.

"You know who it is," the boy said, annoyance in his voice. "Open the gate."

"No~..." the burly teen said. "I can't quite tell under this light. You look a little unfamiliar. State your name?" One of the other guards snickered, realizing he was about to see some form of entertainment.

The young boy rolled his eyes. "It's Carl," he said, playing along and hoping that the older teen would get bored with his compliance.

"Carl?!" The boy asked. "Did you say Carl?!" Carl didn't respond. He was already fed up with the game. "Nah, that can't be right. 'Cause the Carl I know ain't got no business bein' outside the gates. Right, boys?" He looked to his fellow guards for backup. They nodded and made general noises of consensus. "So either...you broke the rules. Or you're some prick tryin' to infiltrate our home." He aimed his gun at Carl so that the laser shone right on Carl's forehead. "Which is it?"

"Look, cut the shit, Brad." Carl said, exasperated. "What is it you want? Do you want the XBOX I found or something?"

Brad was silent. Carl knew he was probably biting his tongue in withheld indignation. His index finger was probably twitching, itching to pull the trigger on his rifle. Carl was convinced the dude had anger issues, and that usually got him in trouble. But Carl wasn't scared; he knew no one would touch him. Least of all Brad.

"No," Brad snarled, angry that his bullying game was being cut short and that Carl didn't seem intimidated. "No, you know what?"

"What?"

"I don't want your XBOX. I want Lydia."

Carl squinted, confused. "What?!"

"I want Lydia; give her to me."

"I can't _give_ her to you," Carl said, as if Brad were mentally challenged. "She's not a toy."

" _Give_ her to me. Or else," Brad said, keeping his gun steady.

Carl rolled his eyes again. He knew Brad's threats were useless, but staying out here arguing with the buffoon was wearing on his nerves and running his patience thin. Plus, he could hear low growls and soft shuffling, that meant a few walkers were ambling nearby and being drawn by their voices. "Fine," he said. "Whatever. Now open the gate."

A grin split across Brad's face and he lowered his rifle. "Open the gate," he said, with a nod to his companions.

The gate finally opened and Carl walked inside.

The Sanctuary was an old, abandoned factory that the Saviors had managed to call a livable compound. It stood a few stories high and was surrounded by walkers impaled on pikes stuck into the ground. They managed to keep the unwanted walkers out if they managed to get past the first gate.

"I want her by 7PM, Grimes!"

Carl sent a half-hearted glare over his shoulder at the other teen and kept walking to the chainlink fence, where he was let through with much more ease.

"Hey, man," she man on the second line of guard duty said by way of greeting. Carl nodded back at him. Upon re-entry to his compound, he made his way back to a small junkyard that was located at the back of the factory. It was called the junkyard because well...it's where everyone just dumped their junk.

"Hey, Carl, you back?" a fourteen-year-old boy asked as Carl made his way to the spot that had grown to become his.

A gaggle of teenagers and kids, ages ranging from nine to eighteen, stood around the junkyard. They all separated for Carl as he made his way through. He stood in the center of the formed circle and slowly scanned the crowd until he found who he was looking for. He pointed at the fifteen-year-old blonde girl in a miniskirt and motioned her forward. She came unhesitatingly with a smile. "What's up?" she asked, smacking loudly on a piece of gum.

"Brad wants you," he said without preamble. "Go meet him at 7PM tonight."

Lydia's face scrunched up. "I don't want to!"

"It wasn't a request," Carl said, his eyes steely. "Do it."

Lydia's face fell and she paled. "Why?" she asked. Carl didn't answer her; he only stared at her. Lydia dropped her head. "What if he does something to me?"

Carl looked over Lydia's shoulder to a disinterested-looking brunette who was picking dirt from under her fingernails with a pair of scissors. He went over and took the pair of scissors from her, ignoring the girl's indignant shout of "Hey"! He handed the scissors to Lydia. "Don't let him," he answered. Carl looked into Lydia's eyes until she took the scissors from his hand and nodded. She understood.

After taking care of that, Carl went to his room – a concrete ten by eight cell – and threw himself onto the twin bed pushed against the wall. It was the only piece of furniture besides a dresser that also sat against the wall at the head of his bed. He threw his arm up and opened the first drawer. Without looking, he fumbled around inside before he pulled out a comic to read.

He read in peace for about twenty minutes before the door to his room opened.

"Carl."

Carl rolled his eyes and continued to read. Lately, he couldn't stand the sound of his mother's voice. Soft, steady, and resolute. As if everything was fine. When nothing was fine.

"Carl," she repeated again, her voice a little firmer.

"What?" he asked with a hard voice. He didn't tear his eyes away from his comic.

"I fixed dinner."

"Where?"

"The main kitchen."

"I'm not eating with him."

There was a long silence and then Lori, his mother, sighed. "You know I'm doing the best I can for us," she said. Carl didn't say anything and eventually she spoke again. "I'll leave a plate out for you. You can eat it when everyone leaves." Then she was gone, the door closing gently behind her. Carl flung his comic away and turned over onto his side to face the wall. Instead of thinking of things he'd rather not think about, he started to think of how he would make his way into the ASZ the following week.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

The week went quickly.

Michonne and Rick were interrogating Gregory for what must have been the hundredth time and Michonne was starting to think that they had really extracted all they could from the cowardly man. Which, to put it bluntly, was absolutely nothing. According to Gregory, he didn't know anything.

"He's lying!" Rick accused in a harsh whisper after Michonne pulled him aside to a corner of the room to talk.

"I don't think she is," she confessed, looking over at the man who had dark circles and looked terrified in his chair. His lip was bloody, busted from the third punch Rick had landed on him. And that was when Michonne thought it was time they call it quits. "If he knew anything, he would've told us by now. I think Negan must have been smart enough not to let a weasel like Gregory know where his base was."

Rick released a frustrated sigh. He knew Michonne was right. But he was frustrated by more than Gregory's lack of helpfulness.

He didn't even want to look at the woman in front of him. She was his main cause of vexation lately. Because not only had she avoided him for the past week, but this interrogation was the first time he had spent more than ten minutes together after they had eaten dinner a few days ago.

"Patch him up and take him back to his cell," Rick heard Michonne tell the two men who were standing in as extra security in the room with them.

"Wait," Rick said, stopping them when they picked him up from each side to escort him from the room. Rick stalked forward and punched Gregory squarely in the face, knocking him out. "Now take him."

"...Really?" Michonne said in a very unamused and unimpressed tone.

Rick left the interrogation room after the guards left with Greg and Michonne followed after him, keeping up with his long and fast stride. "Don't forget that Glenn and Maggie's baby shower is tomorrow," she said. "And Andre's birthday is the day after that." Rick didn't slow down or acknowledge her; she glanced at his face. "Do you have something ready?"

"I have it handled," Rick said.

Michonne needed more than that. "I hope so because if you disappoint him-"

"I'm not going to disappoint him," Rick said, cutting her off.

"Good," Michonne said. She was about to bring up the fact that she noticed Andre had been walking more and she thought it was thanks to him, but she was interrupted from saying what she was going to say when Mike gently grabbed her by the wrist and stopped her from walking.

"Hey," Mike said. "I've been looking for you. Can I talk to you?"

Michonne opened her mouth to speak, remembering what Mike had confessed to her last time. She hadn't been looking forward to this conversation. But it was better to get it over with. "Sure-" she started. But she was cut off once again when Rick grabbed her other wrist.

"No," he said. He didn't follow up with any kind of explanation; he just glared at Mike. Mike glared back and then turned to Michonne, still holding her wrist. He raised his eyebrows and Michonne knew he was leaving the choice up to her.

"Mike, I'll talk to you later," she said, pulling her wrist free. Leaving a glowering Mike behind, she allowed Rick to lead her into their house. Once the door was closed she decided to ask him, "What the hell was that?"

"That," Rick said, pressing Michonne's back against the door by pressing his body against hers. "Was a husband trying to get an absent wife alone for five fucking minutes."

Michonne immediately felt a spark of arousal the minute Rick pushed himself against her.

"You know what today is, right?" Rick continued. "Exactly a week has passed since the last time we screwed. That means you're due." His warm breath landed against her parted lips. "You can avoid me as much as you want, but you can't avoid this. Today is mine."

Michonne's center throbbed in need of him. She hadn't forgotten what today was. She had thought about how their next night would go every night since they had last had sex. She had thought about it so much, in fact, that she was looking forward to their night together. When they would unwind and release all of their passion on each other for as long as they wanted. She didn't want a quick fuck against the door.

"Take off your clothes," Rick demanded.

"Wait," Michonne breathed.

"I'm tired of waiting," Rick responded. "Take them off."

"Wait," Michonne said again with a firmer tone. "And I promise you, you won't regret it."

Rick considered Michonne's words for a moment. He couldn't resist knowing what she meant by that last statement.

He stepped into her and Michonne felt his bulge press against her stomach. "You need to start sticking around more," Rick said in a gruff, low voice. "You've been runnin' off a lot lately. I know you're avoidin' me. I run this damn place and I'm not _that_ busy. So just stop it." He lifted her chin and pressed his lips hard against hers, forcing her lips open with his tongue. Michonne opened her mouth wider, letting his tongue wrestle with hers. Just when she was about to say 'fuck it' and take the quickie, Rick drew back. "Collectin' my kiss early," he said. He willed himself to step back. "Tonight," he said, as he retreated.

"Tonight," Michonne promised.

She melted against the door when he left. 'Let me take a cold shower and get ready for my guard duty,' she thought. She couldn't wait for the night.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16: I Want to Hold Onto my One Time With You For as Long as Possible**

Michonne sighed when she reached Mike's door. The sun had set, her watch duty was over, and she had spent one hour with her favorite little boy before she resolved herself to take him over to Mike's house. He was feeling better now and she was sure he would start asking her when she would bring Andre over. She tried not to dwell too much on the inevitable talk of what they were to each other that was bound to happen; she'd just wing it.

She released Andre's hand and knelt down in front of the little boy. "Gimme a hug?" she said.

Andre did so and they released each other. "Am I not staying with you anymore, Mama?" Andre asked.

"You're going to stay with your father tonight," she said. "But I'm going to talk to him about you staying over more. Now that I'm settled. And now that you've become more comfortable with Rick. You like Rick, right?"

Andre nodded emphatically, a smile on his face. Michonne smiled in return, happy to see him so excited. She was surprised at how quickly Rick had managed to win him over. "Good," she said.

"Is he still giving me a party, Mama?"

"He says he is," Michonne responded. She leaned close to his face. "But just between you and me, he's kind of a stick-in-the-mud so don't hate him if the party's not that great. Okay?"

Andre giggled and nodded. "Okay."

"Alright," she said, rubbing his head. "You be a good boy for your Daddy."

"I will."

Michonne stood and knocked at the door. It didn't take long for Mike to open up. "Hey," he said, smiling when he saw who was at the door. "Look who it is!"

"Daddy!"

He scooped Andre up in a hug. "Ohh! I missed you! You miss me too?"

"Yeah," Andre laughed.

"Go on and wait on the couch; I'll be with you in a minute." Mike stood Andre on his feet and swatted his behind to start him running for the sofa in the living room. Mike waited to make sure he did what he told him before he turned his attention back to Michonne and lowered his voice to speak privately with her.

"Thanks for bringing him by," Mike said. "I was gonna go see about picking him up tomorrow if you didn't come over."

"Yeah," Michonne said. "I've been thinking maybe we need to sit down and talk about a more regular living arrangement for Andre. It can't be good for him to not know where he's gonna be from day to day."

"Yeah, we can talk about it..." Mike said. He opened his mouth to say something else then stopped himself. He just trailed off into a nod. "We can talk about it."

"What?" Michonne asked, wondering what he had been about to say.

"Nothing," Mike said.

"No, what?" Michonne prodded.

"I was just thinking maybe we should talk about maybe...living in the same house again. That way Andre won't have to go from place to place."

Surprise caused Michonne to shake her head. She didn't understand where that came from. Not only was it a sudden statement but he should know that it was impossible. "Mike..." she said. "I'm married."

A frown quickly landed on Mike's face like a sudden storm cloud on a fair day. "Why do you keep sayin' that?" he asked.

"Because it's true!"

"You told me that the marriage didn't mean anything!"

"I didn't say that; I said it was a political marriage. It's important to the community that we-"

"Is it important to you?"

"...Yes. I want to keep the people here safe. I want to continue to grow our numbers-"

"Stop with the bullshit!" Mike interrupted. Michonne looked inside to see Andre's head whip around at the curse word.

"Can you keep your voice down?" Michonne reprimanded Mike.

"Do you like him?" Mike continued, ignoring Michonne's protest. "Have you _slept_ with him?" His voice was full of indignation.

Michonne grew upset. Not only because Mike was arguing with her about this in earshot of their son but because she felt he was overstepping his bounds. She had the sudden clear thought that she didn't have to stand there and take that. "That's none of your business," she said. "Go in; sleep whatever the hell this is off, then we'll talk in the morning."

"You did." Mike realized. A weight of insolence seemed to settle over him. He tented his hands over his nose. "After all the stuff I've heard about that man, you just went up here and slept with him."

Michonne shook her head, done with the conversation. "Get some sleep," she clipped before turning to walk off.

"Michonne!" Mike called after her. "Michonne!" Michonne kept walking. "Goddamnit!" Mike yelled, slapping the door with the palm of his hand. Michonne whirled around, telegraphing to Mike that she thought he must have lost his mind. She contemplated going back and getting Andre, but when Andre called for his dad, Mike just gave Michonne one last disgusted stare before shaking his head and going back inside. "What is it, little man?" he asked, forcing the anger out of his voice.

When he was gone, Michonne sighed and let her head fall back, trying to release some of the tension from her neck and shoulders. "I do _not_ need this," she muttered into the air before leaving to go home.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Rick heard Michonne when she came into the house. He listened closely and followed her journey as she went from the living room, to the kitchen, up the stairs, to her room, to the bathroom...he heard the shower start...and then, finally, he heard her footsteps approaching his room.

He composed his face to keep a small smile of anticipation from climbing to his lips. As she opened the door, he bookmarked his page and set his book aside. There was a part of him that had been afraid that she would try to sneak off to her own bed for a night of solitary sleep tonight. In which case he would have had to go and retrieve her. He was glad it hadn't come to that.

Her hair was piled on top of her head in a loose bun and she wore a light, blue bathrobe. Rick's body immediately stirred – ready for her.

"Glad to see you're not trying to run away," Rick said.

Michonne ignored his dig at her and walked to his side of the bed. She had spent the last half hour in the shower trying to get rid of the upset that her confrontation with Mike had left her with, but she hadn't quite succeeded. So if there was any time that she needed Rick to take her and consume her senses, it was now.

Rick's breath hitched when Michonne wasted no time in straddling his lap. He felt her heat press against his quickly growing erection and he had a quiet suspicion – he loosened her bathrobe and snaked his hand inside – that was quickly confirmed. She had nothing on underneath. His hand touched the warm, smooth skin of her waist.

He bit his lip. "Well," he said, a little surprised that she was taking the lead this time. "If you're doing this just to get this over with...keep going."

Michonne finished loosening her bathrobe and let it hang open. She wasn't surprised when Rick's hands went immediately to her breasts to cup them. He was very attentive with his touch. Michonne arched forward and Rick took the hint. He covered the nipple of one breast with his lips and then the other. His tongue flicked against her and Michonne sighed with pleasure. "I'm not doing this just to get it over with," Michonne said through aroused breaths. Her hips gently undulated against him. "I want you, Rick."

Rick moaned, obviously hearing what he wanted to hear, and began to kiss up her chest toward her neck. "That's hard to believe," Rick said. He brought his lips centimeters away from her skin to speak and went back in for a momentary kiss between words. "When you're avoiding me every chance you get."

Michonne stayed quiet. She didn't want to tell him that she avoided him because she was afraid she'd start to want him _too_ much. Instead, she cupped his face in her hands and kissed him deeply and aggressively, showing him how much she wanted him in the moment. "Mmm," Rick moaned. Michonne pressed her wanting center against his fully erect manhood. His moans were turning her on even more.

Mike's disgusted face came into her mind. It caused her to gyrate against Rick harder. "Do whatever you wanna do to me, Rick," she prompted.

Rick didn't need to be told twice. He wrapped his arm around Michonne's waist and flipped her over onto the bed. Her naked body was now on full view in front of him, with her bathrobe splayed beneath her. Rick grabbed his white t-shirt by the collar and pulled it over his head. He then began to fumble with getting his belt undone.

It took him a minute.

"Why are you wearing a belt to bed anyway?" Michonne asked, her frustration growing with Rick's as she watched him struggle with it.

"I was waiting up for you," Rick growled, finally managing to get it unhooked. He pulled it quickly from inside his belt loops and slung the offending object across the room. Tired of just being a spectator, Michonne began to unbuckle and unzip Rick's pants. He leaned down and kissed her neck as she pushed his jeans down over his hips.

Her head fell to the side as Rick continued to lick and graze her neck with his teeth. Her eyes landed on a bottle on the nightstand. She picked it up to get a better look at the label. "What are these?" she asked.

Rick stopped kissing her long enough to glance at what she held. "Sleeping pills," he said. He took them and haphazardly threw them into a drawer of the nightstand. He then began kissing her neck again.

"You take them?" Michonne asked.

"Yeah."

Rick kissed down her neck, between her breasts, down her stomach.

"Did Denise prescribe them?"

"Nope."

"Did you take them before the turn?"

"No." Rick kissed his way further and further down. Michonne squirmed. The apex of her thighs tingled with desire. She grabbed Rick's arms and stopped him before she could get sidetracked.

"So you're taking unprescribed sleeping pills."

"Yeah. I need to sleep; they help me sleep."

Michonne sighed. "Rick, that's dangerous."

"Careful," Rick said. "I might start to think that you care." He started back up kissing her where he left off.

Michonne groaned and kicked Rick away from her. "Hey!" he protested. Michonne completely disrobed herself and threw the material to the floor. She rolled over onto her side and pressed him back to the bed when he tried to get up.

"Why do you keep saying stuff like that?" Michonne asked. "I don't hate you, Rick."

'Yeah, but if you had the choice, you wouldn't be married to me either,' Rick thought. The weight of sadness that came with that thought surprised him.

Michonne slid her hand down to Rick's erection, slid his boxers down, and wrapped her hand around his shaft. Rick's eyes closed with pleasure as Michonne leaned forward and pressed kisses against his chest. She softly and slowly moved her hand up and down his member. "Tell me what you want me to do, Rick."

She was going to give herself over to him fully tonight. So that no other thoughts could enter her head. No thoughts of the war, no thoughts of reservations, and definitely no thoughts of Mike or his bullshit.

Rick was ecstatic to hear those words come out of Michonne's mouth. His sex throbbed in her hand. Her eagerness made him excited. During this past week, she had been so distant that he had been afraid that she was going to try to go back on their deal. But it was only the second time they were going to be intimate and she was being the aggressor.

Michonne gently ran her tongue around Rick's nipple. Rick was about to tell her to climb on top of him and ride him slowly, but a sudden thought stopped him. The fact that Michonne was so eager suddenly set off his suspicions instead of just his pleasure. "Wait a minute," he said, stopping her. Her pursuit of pleasure reminded him of his pursuit of pleasure through the use of many women. Michonne looked up at him. "Did something happen today?" he asked.

"No...Nothing big besides that teenage Savior I told you about. Why?"

"And nothing happened after that?"

"...No," Michonne said, genuinely confused as to why he was asking her this.

"What did you do before this?"

"Guard duty," Michonne answered.

"And then?"

"And then..." Michonne thought of her argument with Mike and grew upset all over again. "I don't wanna talk about it," she said.

Rick squinted. 'So something did happen'. "No; talk about it," he said. "What?"

Michonne sighed. "I dropped Andre off at Mike's and we ended up getting into an argument."

Rick sighed. "An argument about what?" he asked.

Michonne snuggled against Rick's chest. "We don't have to talk about this now."

"No, we're gonna talk about it," Rick said, forcing himself to pull away from Michonne's arms. It pained him, but he did it. He sat up, took the pillow from the right side of the bed, and covered himself with it. He then clasped his hands on top of the pillow and waited patiently for her to start talking.

The sudden turn of events caused Michonne to balk. She never expected that Rick would be the one to turn down sex. "Why?" she asked.

"Because I don't want you having sex with me when anything or anyone _else_ is on your mind. Especially Mike," he finished with a sneer.

"I'm not thinking about him; I'm thinking about the situation," Michonne said.

"Well, what was the situation?"

Michonne sighed again and mimicked Rick's position by sitting up against the headboard. She realized that Rick wasn't going to do anything until she talked. She pulled the cover over herself. "Well..." she said, deciding to tell him all of it. "On the way back from Hilltop, Mike told me that he's been missing me. And that he maybe thought we could try being in a relationship again."

Michonne paused, waiting for a reaction from Rick. He was deathly quiet. "...And what did you say?" he finally asked.

"I was too shocked to answer then," Michonne said. "But I knew we would have to talk about it sooner or later. So, today, I dropped Andre off and I told Mike that we should talk about a more regular living arrangement for Andre – when he should stay here, and when he should stay with Mike." Michonne glanced over at Rick to see if he was still listening. He nodded to show that he was but stayed silent.

"And then that's when the subject came up," Michonne continued. "He told me we should just start living together again so that Andre wouldn't have to move around at all-" Rick inhaled a deep breath through his nose.

"And what'd you say to that?" Rick asked.

Michonne looked at him like the answer was obvious. "I told him I was married!" she said. "And then he flew off the handle. Raised his voice and started cursing in front of our son."

She finished. She was still upset from revisiting it again, but she felt a bit lightened from having talked about it aloud. She didn't feel like it would weigh on her for the rest of the night like she had feared previously. She turned to Rick again, waiting for him to say something. He was silent and staring straight ahead.

"Okay," he said. Michonne waited for more to come, but nothing came after that. "Is that it?" he asked.

"...Yeah," Michonne said.

He nodded, his face hard. "We'll go get Andre tomorrow," he decided.

Michonne's eyebrows lifted in surprise at his sudden declaration. "Yeah, I'm going to go talk to him tomorrow-"

"No, we're gonna go get him," Rick said. "We're gonna send Mike to the Hilltop. He can stay there until The Kingdom gets rebuilt. Or for however long he wants. I don't care; he's just not staying here anymore."

"You can't get rid of him as simple as that," Michonne said, shaking her head.

"It's taking everything I have not to go over there and kill him right now and you're tellin' me we can't get rid of him that simply?"

"He's Andre's father," Michonne said.

Rick scoffed. "So what do you suggest we do? Just continue to live with him?"

Michonne chuckled at the way Rick asked that as if it were the most outrageous idea ever. She decided not to mention how that's the way people normally handled situations like these. Before the apocalypse. "Yes," she said. "For Andre's sake."

Rick pressed his lips together and Michonne could tell that he wasn't happy with that idea. "We'll see," he said. "But no matter what, you, stay away from him."

Michonne leaned against the headboard. "I think that's best," Michonne said. "For all of us...I'll only see him when I drop Andre off and pick him up."

"Good," Rick said. "Avoid him like you avoid me."

Michonne looked over at Rick and smiled, amused. "You're not gonna stop with that, are you?" Rick stole a glance at her smile but didn't share in the amusement with her. Michonne pressed her index finger to his brow and tried to wipe away the crease there. "Now you're as upset as I was," Michonne said. "I told you we shouldn't have talked about this. Now we've ruined our night."

"No, we haven't," Rick said, pulling off his jeans and boxers. "See...I'm glad Mike screwed up. I'm about to show you how a real man brings a woman around to seein' his side of things. It ain't about yellin' and screamin' – well, it is..." Michonne laughed as Rick hooked his hand on the underside of her knee and pulled her down onto the bed. "But that's gonna be comin' from you," Rick continued as he climbed on top of her. "I'm gonna make love to you so good that you'll be senseless after this and I'll have you agreein' to anything I ask."

Michonne ignored the roil of desire that rolled in her stomach. "Don't start all of that macho stuff," she said as Rick situated himself between her thighs underneath the cover. An amused smile still hovered on Michonne's face and Rick drank it in. "Or I'll show you how a real woman handles a 'real man'."

"Is that so?" Rick asked, sounding more excited than threatened by Michonne's threat.

Michonne laughed. "Yes."

Rick slid his hand between their bodies and grabbed his hardened length. He slid the tip of his member against her womanly folds. Michonne lifted her hips in anticipation of him. "Do you feel better?" Rick asked, before he entered her. "You're with me, right?"

Michonne knew he was asking her if she was done thinking about what happened with Mike for the night. Michonne nodded. "I'm with you from now on." Rick placed a kiss against Michonne's lips and it was nothing but gentle. It was in that moment that Michonne gave up. If this wasn't who Rick truly was, then he had succeeded in fooling her. Well and truly. 'I'm falling for him,' Michonne realized.

Rick reached over and turned the lamp off on the nightstand. It was just them in the dark with their bodies and their senses.

Rick entered Michonne and Michonne gasped for air.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Michonne moaned as Rick hit her spot over and over again. They had been going at it in missionary position for at least twenty minutes and Michonne still wasn't tired. Rick would build her up, pound into her with so much passion, and then draw away – slowing things down so that neither of them would go over the edge. It was torture. And Michonne wanted it to last forever.

Rick sat back onto his knees and looked down at Michonne's form laid out beneath him. He could just make her out.

He placed his hand against her abdomen to hold her against the bed and then flicked his middle finger against her clitoris. Michonne jerked and let out a small gasp. Each throng of pleasure that Rick sent through her body caused her back to arch up off of the bed slightly. Her hips to jerk upward. With Rick's dick still inside of her, it was a pleasure that was doubled.

Rick's eyes were hooded as he watched her. The feeling he had of being buried inside of her hot, tight, wet center while she succumbed to her pleasure beneath him was something he would have to hold onto for another week after this. He was going to commit it all to memory.

Michonne's liquid passion hit the sheets below.

Rick placed the pad of his thumb against her clitoris and pressed against her gently. Michonne moaned and gripped the sheets. She thrust her hips upward, taking Rick deep inside of her as her desire grew.

Rick's mouth fell open and he breathed heavily. His eyes wanted to fall closed but he kept them barely open by power of will. He rubbed his thumb faster against her as his penis gained more and more pleasure from the wet, tight strokes of her walls gripping him. He groaned and fell over her, keeping himself propped up on one hand while the other continued to work her over.

Michonne grabbed Rick's shoulders and thrust her hips faster and faster against his. Gasps turned into moans – first low and short, then high and prolonged.

Rick's eyes rolled shut and he released a guttural groan. He was about to come. He quickly stopped stimulating Michonne and placed his hand against her hips, stopping her from moving. Michonne whimpered but stopped as best she could, even though her hips moved in longing circles even after Rick pulled out of her.

He stroked Michonne's thighs as he sat back onto his heels, regaining his breath.

Michonne gathered herself as well. After a minute, she sat up onto her knees and faced Rick. Moving toward him, she reached out and took his erect penis into her hands. She pushed Rick until he was sitting down and then Rick had the most spiritual experience he thought he'd ever come close to.

Michonne slid her lips down his shaft and then brought them back up. Again, Rick watched her as if blinking would be the greatest dishonor ever committed. She worked slowly and thoroughly, making sure no inch of him was left free of her attention.

She gripped the base of him and swirled her tongue around the tip.

Michonne could taste herself on him and it was kind of a turn on.

She licked her way down one side, then the other, then the underside – until she reached his balls.

Rick's stomach heaved with heavy breaths. He jerked when he felt her tongue come into contact with his testicles. She reached under him with her hand and massaged him as she sucked first one into her mouth and then the other. Rick placed his hand on her head as she licked her way back up and then descended on him again with her mouth until the tip of his member reached the back of her throat.

Rick had never had a woman go down on him like this – almost reverently.

"Michonne," he said, his voice coming out strained. Michonne understood what that meant. She was tempted to keep him engulfed and taste his essence as it slid down her throat, but she showed him mercy. She drew away from him.

Rick cupped her face and pulled her into a kiss. He was happy to be married to her. As he was kissing her, he realized he was starting to consider marrying her as being the luckiest day of his life. When she was with him, he didn't feel as alone as he had for years. "We're gonna share dinner everyday," Rick said. "And you're moving into my room from now on. No more avoiding me."

"...Okay," Michonne said.

Happy, Rick kissed her again as Michonne climbed onto his lap. "See?" Rick said as Michonne lined his shaft up with her hole. "I told you you'd be agreeing to everything I say."

Michonne laughed. "Shut up," she said. She slid herself down onto him and Rick groaned with pleasure.

"You like that, macho man?" Michonne asked.

"Oh yeah," Rick answered.

Michonne wasted no time in setting a quick pace. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and bounced up and down on his shaft. Rick moaned and tightened his arms around her waist. His lips caught her bouncing breasts in his mouth.

Michonne threw her head back and moaned, no longer wanting to deny herself of the pleasure of falling over the edge of their heightened action. "I'm gonna come, Rick."

Rick brought the palm of his hand against Michonne's ass; it turned her on more. She bucked against his pelvis. "Not yet," Rick said.

"Yes," Michonne defied. She wasn't stopping. Her body was screaming for a release.

Rick's body was also screaming for a release but he wanted to stay buried inside of her forever if it was at all possible. "Not yet," he said again, biting her shoulder.

"When?" Michonne asked.

Rick didn't have an answer. He wanted it to last all night.

Michonne had other plans. "I'm coming," she gasped out and Rick knew it was too late. A loud moan left her lips and Michonne's body shuddered. Her walls clenched and unclenched around Rick's member.

He denied himself of his own orgasm with all his might. "Dammit," he said as he watched Michonne shatter around him. He felt all of her muscles tighten and then he felt all of her muscles go lax. He stroked her back as heavy, satiated breaths felt against his ear. He turned and kissed her cheek.

Michonne wiggled on Rick's hardness, still inside of her. "Come on," she said. "What are you waiting for?" She began to move her hips again to get him off, but Rick stopped her.

"Here; lay back," he said.

Michonne climbed off of him and followed his instruction.

"You said once a week," Rick said, kissing her stomach then the inside of her thighs. "I want to hold onto my one time with you for as long as possible."

Michonne felt touched by Rick's confession. She watched his head descend between her legs and she opened wider for him, prepared to let him excite her again. If he wanted her all night; he'd have her all night.

At least she knew tomorrow he wouldn't be needing sleeping pills. He'd be exhausted. They both would.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17: No Restrictions**

Long tables lined the room Carl sat in.

Usually the room would be bustling with activity. Men and women would be loitering around every table as servers came down from the hot kitchen with seconds, thirds, and drinks of every kind. The eating crowd would belch, pass gas, tell crude jokes, and descend into raucous laughter as they filled their bellies. The servers – usually fancy, sometimes scantily clad women – would come through, dodging mens' wandering hands. They would maybe break a groper's finger or two if they were in that kind of mood. Sometimes the gropers didn't care though; some deemed it worth the risk.

The table in the front row center of the room, where Carl sat now, was where the Wives' usually sat. The Wives were just as their titles denoted – wives of the ruler of the Sanctuary, Negan. The Wives were first class citizens of a bottom-class life. Some would say they were paraded around as Negan's trophies, but there was no denying that they got special treatment. No one touched The Wives. Being a wife had almost become a coveted position at The Sanctuary.

Negan, the charming, ruthless leader of the Saviors was handsome and provided for his community. So women were attracted to him. His air of danger didn't hurt matters either.

The Sanctuary was bountiful. In the way that occupied states – as much as Carl knew of them – were bountiful. The people aligned with the leader reaped all the rewards. Those who didn't, suffered. Or were punished.

Carl shifted in his seat at the table and looked at the watch strapped around his wrist. He had been summoned for a meeting here with Negan himself. But the ruler seemed to be taking his time. Carl wasn't surprised. Negan probably wanted him to grow impatient, irritated, or uncomfortable. It was a way of gaining power over someone before even stepping into the room – to manipulate their time and affect their emotions. So Carl wasn't going to give Negan the satisfaction of being bothered.

He finally heard footsteps coming down the stairs. It was a server coming down from the kitchen on the third floor. She was wearing a white, mini-dress and heels. Her brown hair was pulled into a bun. She didn't smile as servers might do in the old world. Smiling showed invitation and sweetness. Being a Savior meant none of those things.

She held a tray in her arms, approached the table, and began to set full plates at three settings.

"Carl," she greeted. She sat a plate in front of him. It held a piece of steak and a side of beans. Carl wondered which community slaved to produce the bounty. He picked up a piece of silverware and lifted the steak, studying it casually. 'Hilltop probably,' he concluded.

He nodded to the server in response to her greeting. "Is this about my mom's birthday?" he asked.

"I think so," the server responded. "Can I go?"

"Yeah."

The server made her way back up the stairs. Carl watched her start to take off her serving dress even before she left his view.

Just as she disappeared, Negan appeared in the doorway at the entrance of what was The Saviors' dining area. He smiled widely in greeting – a friendly, yet somehow always sinister smile. He walked into the room. Lori was at his shoulder and walked in behind him. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail with sparse bangs framing her forehead. She wore tight, black slacks and a fitted shirt. Carl scowled.

They sat down at the two empty places set by the server. Carl glared at Lori; she purposefully didn't meet his eyes as she picked up her utensils and started to arrange the things on her plate.

Negan started to laugh. It was a deep, gravelly laugh full of genuine, mocking humor. "Isn't this a nice family dinner!" he announced. His voice boomed around the vast and empty room. The stainless steel of the surrounding walls and tables seemed to echo the words, pinging them around the space.

"You're not my family," Carl said.

A smile lingered on Negan's face. "Well, I'm fucking your mother, so what does that make me?"

Lori rolled her eyes and glared at Negan.

"A motherfucker," Carl responded without looking at the man that antagonized his existance.

"Carl!" Lori's voice rose to meet the stainless steel.

Amusement caused Negan to chuckle and then threw his head back into full-blown laughter. "I love this kid," he said to Lori.

She was not as amused. "Enough," she said to the both of them. "Carl, I don't wanna hear you talk like that again. And..." she turned to Negan. "Can't you leave me and Carl alone for my birthday dinner? We would both prefer it..."

Negan's smile didn't falter. "Of course," he said. "Mother/son bonding. I get it. But _I've_ been wondering what to do about a little problem, and I think Carl can help me out..." Negan looked at Carl, who continued to move the food around on his plate with disinterest. "Brad was found yesterday with a pair of scissors stabbed into his jugular. You know anything about that?"

Carl stopped moving his food around. Lori also stopped what she was doing. "What are you trying to say?" she asked Negan with a hint of an edge in her voice.

"I'm not saying anything. But I'll tell you what I've observed." Negan leaned back in his seat and cleared his throat. "I've noticed Brad being a little shit lately and bothering Lydia. I know Lydia's a little shit who follows around _this_ little shit." He pointed his thumb at Carl. "Educated guesses tell me I can solve this fucking mystery here and now."

"Carl had nothing to do with-"

Carl cut Lori off. "So what's the problem?" he asked Negan. His blue eyes squinted at the older man over his plate.

"The _problem,_ " Negan responded. "Is that I can't have my people killing each other. I mean, we're not fuckin' animals."

"You said you've seen Brad bothering her, though, right?" Carl said. "He probably tried to do something to her. And you made it a rule that anyone who was defending themselves from an attack had the right to do whatever they wanted to the attacker. Right?"

Negan chuckled. "I did."

Carl shrugged. "Then I don't see what the problem is."

Negan studied Carl thoughtfully. "Heard you snuck off to go to the ASZ all by your lonesome..." he said. "Now, why would you do something like that?"

"They're an enemy group," Carl said with another nonchalant shrug. "I was just trying to do my part by finding out their weaknesses."

"And did you find anything?"

"No...But I plan on going back-"

"You're what?" Lori looked at Carl in disbelief.

"This fuckin' kid," Negan said with another laugh. He thought for a minute. "Fine," he finally said. "Do that. Who knows? You might just be of some fucking use."

"You can't go," Lori said to Carl. "It's dangerous."

Carl ignored his mother. He couldn't stand to sit there one second longer. He didn't need Negan's permission and he couldn't stand his mother's concern. "I'm outta here," he said, standing up with his plate in hand. "Happy birthday, Mom." He left the table. Lori moved to go after him but then stopped herself. Inadequacy and uncertainty as a mother filled her being. She didn't know what to do about him.

She turned a glare to Negan. "Why are you letting him do this?"

"Like I said," Negan said with a grin. "It might bear some fucking fruit."

"And if it doesn't?"

Negan laughed. "That thorn-in-the-tip-of-my-dick brat already has every kid around this compound following his lead..." Negan said thoughtfully. "If he's detrimental to bringing the ASZ to fuckin' heel, that'll earn him more respect. After a couple years, the little pups will start to follow his word over maybe even mine." He squinted after Carl. "That little fucker is trying to usurp my leadership."

Lori stared at Negan, shocked at the conclusion he had come to but also worried that he might be right.

Negan speared his steak with a fork, stood up, and took a bite. "So if the kid's plan fails, it's no skin off my back. I hope the little shit dies."

He walked off and began to whistle a tune that rang off of all of the silver surfaces. Her heart anxious, Lori put her head in her hands. Everything was falling apart.

00000000000000000000000000000000000

"I hate you, Rick."

Sun was streaming through the window of the Rhees' kitchen and Michonne was in the process of arranging a whole new tray of pigs in a blanket since the last tray had emptied a few minutes ago.

Her, Rick, and almost everyone else in the neighborhood were currently at Glenn and Maggie's for Maggie's baby shower. People filled the house and spilled out into the front and back yard. It was a wonder that the kitchen was empty save for Michonne and Rick at the moment.

Maggie was only three months along, but she said she wanted to get all of the fuss out of the way early so that she could spend the days when she was swollen like a balloon all to herself.

Michonne was dressed in tight black pants and a sleeveless, see-through white shirt that hung just below her hips. She wore a white undershirt underneath and her top had a skinny, decorative, black belt slung around the middle.

And Rick, who was dressed in a blue plaid shirt and jeans, was currently proving to her that he was having more fun bothering her than actually participating in the gathering.

"You don't hate me," Rick whispered, moving closer to her and snaking his hand around her waist. "You told me that last night, remember? And showed me." Michonne tried to back away from his lips against her ear. "How many orgasms did you have again?"

Michonne smiled. She couldn't help it. A thrill ran through her body at Rick's mischievous words. The tenderness between her legs reminded her exactly how many times she had come undone underneath Rick's touch, but she kept mum for his sake. He didn't need to get an inflated ego. More inflated than it already was. "I didn't get any sleep because of you," she said instead.

"Well, that's your fault." Rick's hand snaked further around Michonne's middle. He now stood pressed behind her with his arms as an encasement. His lips stayed at her ear. "Who's the one that made the silly once-a-week rule? If I had more than once a week with you, I'd spread the wealth." He kissed the tip of her ear. "So wha'daya say? We get rid of that restriction?"

Michonne's nipples hardened. It was as if she could feel every little stroke of Rick's thumb through her fabric as he unconsciously brushed it against her taut stomach. With the general mood of the day and the lingering satisfaction of the night before, Michonne was tempted to just say 'yes'. But she refused to give in while being assaulted with his scent and the warmth of his arms around her; she couldn't make a clear decision under these circumstances. She turned to face Rick, her lips inches from his, and smiled. "Nice try," she whispered.

"Come on," Rick pressed. "Now you're just being stubborn."

Michonne's eyes dropped to Rick's lips and she turned away from him before she got any ideas. "Maybe," she said. "But we can talk about this again when we get back home. Right now I need to get these pigs in a blanket back out to the party. And I can't do that with you distracting me." She gently elbowed him in the ribs to get him to move away from her.

Rick obliged by giving her some space. He continued to watch her, though. He was enjoying feeling...whatever it was he was feeling again. Feelings he hadn't felt since before the apocalypse.

"Alright," he found himself saying. "Give me a kiss and I'll leave you alone for the rest of the day."

Michonne sighed. He knew he was pushing it, but he figured if he could make her break one of her silly rules the others would possibly follow.

"Fine," she agreed. Rick stepped forward to meet her and didn't hesitate to place his lips against hers. They were soft pillows of barbiturates and he was a drug addict. He let his lips rest sweetly against hers for a moment until she pushed his lips open and gave him a little urging to deepen the kiss. Rick took her invitation and ran with it. He stepped into her, pulled her against him, and snaked his tongue into her mouth. She opened wider for him as he kissed her deeper.

"Mmm," she moaned. Her sensitive womanhood, that was still feeling his phantom touch of the night before, throbbed between her thighs. 'What has he done to me?' Michonne wondered, wondering how she could still want him so passionately after he had consumed her so often and completely in the past hours of the night.

"Mama!"

Rick and Michonne pulled away from each other as Andre came through the door. He pulled up short when he caught the tail end of what they had been doing. He scowled at Rick.

"Hey, Peanut!" Michonne greeted Andre as Rick rubbed the back of his head.

Mike came through the door, following behind his son. The adults all grew quiet as a thick tension filled the air and settled amongst them.

"Hey, Andre, come here," Mike said. He bent down to pick up his four-year-old son. "What's going on?"

"Rick was biting Mama," Andre tattled, a confused expression on his face.

A shocked silence followed his statement. Michonne was glad the darkness of her cheeks hid any embarrassment that may have tinted itself there. Rick's eyebrows raised in surprise, but he looked more amused than anything. Mike, who had already worn a scowl, deepened it.

"Looked like he was trying to swallow her," Andre continued.

"Okay," Michonne said, suddenly wishing her kid wasn't so eloquent for his young age. "Andre, do you want some peaches?" She reached out to take Andre, but Mike pulled him out of her reach.

"Don't you touch him," Mike said, anger on his brow. "Andre, let's go play in-"

"Hey!" Rick said, stepping forward. "If my wife wants to hold her son, you're gonna let her."

Michonne recovered from her affront to Andre being taken out of her reach and she reached out to lay a hand on Rick's arm. It was best not to get worked up over this now with Andre there. They would all be sitting down to talk at some later point in the evening about the best situation for their son. "Rick, it's okay," she said. "We'll talk about this later."

"There's no need to talk," Mike said, his expression stormy. "My son's not staying in the house with a tyrant." His glare went from Rick to Michonne. "Andre's staying with me."

Michonne looked after Mike as he walked away; her face was full of disbelief. When Rick started after him, she stopped him.

"He's not gonna do this to you," Rick said, his eyes flashing. He cocked his head, wondering why Michonne was stopping him.

"You're right," she said. "He's not." She watched him stop in the backyard to talk to Michael through the back door he left swinging open. "He's acting out because I rejected him. If he doesn't get his shit together by tonight..." she nodded at Rick, agreeing with a past sentiment. "We send him to Hilltop."

Rick pulled her into another embrace and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. Michonne sighed, hoping that - if worst came to worst – she was making the right decision for Andre.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"-I didn't know what the hell he was doing. I said, 'Hey, asshole! Yeah, you in the tank-"

Michonne looked around the group as they recounted how they had all met each other. They were sitting outside at a long, wooden picnic table and they were all cracking up with laughter. Michonne was feeding off of their reactions, cracking up, herself, whenever she could keep up with what they were saying through their laughing and talking over each other when they all recalled some hilarious moment that just _had_ to be told at the same time.

At the moment, Glenn was regaling everyone about the time when he had saved Rick from most certain death and Michonne was very interested. Rick was always getting her to talk, but he barely ever told her about himself.

"So, you all had known each other _before_ Rick came along?" she asked.

"Well..." Glenn, Carol, Maggie, Daryl, and Sasha looked around at each other. "Carol, Daryl, and I knew each other before Rick," Glenn answered. "We met Maggie and Sasha later on. A lot of the group we were with before...they're gone now."

Everyone looked saddened for a moment, remembering someone close to them that they had lost. Michonne felt empathy, sorry that she had made them remember when they had all been enjoying themselves. She let her curiosity lead her to another question, though. "So how did you become leader?" she asked Rick.

Rick shrugged. "Just sort of happened, I guess..." he said.

"Don't let him tell you that lie," Sasha broke in. "I wasn't there, but I've heard it. Can I tell it?" She looked around at the rest of the group. They nodded their approval. "See, I _heard_ ," she said, going full gossip. "That Dixon here used to be a major asshole."

Daryl's face flushed to a shade of red, but he pretended to be uncaring. He picked his teeth with one of his arrows.

"He still is," Glenn joked.

"Hey. Watch it, Chinatown," Daryl warned. They shared a laugh and Michonne figured she must be missing some inside joke. She turned to Rick for clarification.

"He's Korean," is all Rick said by way of explanation. Michonne smiled and nodded, still as confused as ever about why it was so funny, but she left it be. She found out in that moment that Rick wasn't the person to go to when you wanted a good story. She rubbed his back.

" _Any_ way," Sasha continued. "Apparently, Daryl had a brother named Merle who was even more of an asshole than Daryl was-"

"Shocking, right?" Maggie chimed in.

Daryl gave Maggie the middle finger as everyone burst out into laughter again.

"So Merle and Daryl had just taken over the camp and took everyone's things," Sasha said.

"We didn't have a good leader at the time," Glenn chimed in again. "Andrea tried, but..." he shook his head.

"So Rick just came in. Checked Daryl and Merle for their bullshit. And he became leader from then on," Sasha finished.

"Wait, how'd he check them for their bullshit?" Michonne asked, hungry to hear more about Rick before she knew him.

"We don't need to hear all that," Daryl protested.

"I'll tell you about it more when we get home," Rick said quietly.

Michonne sighed, certain that she'd never get all the good details then. She was about to insist that they tell her more when Matthew came over to them. "Hey, Michonne. Can I talk to you for a second?"

"Yeah, sure." Michonne got up from the table and Rick felt a bit of anxiety settle in his stomach. He had been doing well, socializing with his old group when she was there, but with her gone he felt a little uncomfortable. A tight smile crossed his lips when he looked up to see Carol looking at him. She smiled in return.

"You're lucky to have her," she said. Quiet understanding was on her face.

Rick nodded. "Yeah, I am."

His eyes went to Michonne, who was having a deep discussion with Matthew. Her dreads fell over her shoulders as she nodded, her head bent forward slightly to hear him over the noise of other people. As he looked her over and felt a smile growing on his face, it felt strange for him. After so many years where everything seemed to not make sense, it felt strange to find something that actually did.

His eyes slid to Mike, who was staring at Michonne, and the smile slid off of his face. He watched Mike hand Andre over to one of the Kingdom residents and then head for the drinks situated on a long table.

"Excuse me..." Rick said to Carol. He got up from the table.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"She's not yours anymore," Rick's voice graveled.

Mike turned from where he had been pouring himself some punch and met Rick face-to-face. "What?"

"I said...she's not yours anymore," Rick repeated. His eyes bore into Mike's. "So you need to stop looking at her, stop talking to her, and stop trying to use Andre as a pawn in your weak attempt to keep her interested."

Mike forced a chuckle and then grew entirely serious. He pulled himself to his full height and stood somewhat taller than Rick. "Is that why you're over here threatening me?" he asked. "'Cause you feel so secure in her wanting you?"

"I'm not threatening you," Rick said. "You'd know if I were."

"Well, I have news for you," Mike continued. "She _doesn't_ want you. She doesn't care about you. She cares about The Kingdom. And that's it. The only reason she's putting up with you is because she wants to keep her community safe. I don't care what she does or what she says to you; _that's_ her first priority."

Rick felt rage building inside of him.

"You know what she told me? She told me that it's just politics between you two. Nothin' else. So don't let her fool you. She's probably just sleeping with you 'cause she knows it'll give her more power. She knows it'll get you whipped. Just look at how you're coming over here tryin' to fight her battles-"

Rick landed a hard punch across Mike's jaw. Mike jolted back from the impact, but Rick didn't allow him time to recover. He grabbed his shirt and hit him again and again until Mike was falling back into the punch table. It went toppling over and Rick continued to punch Mike when he got him to the ground. He heard something crack but he didn't pay attention. He just saw red.

He tried to keep hitting Mike, but he felt himself being pulled away.

"Rick!" Michonne yelled, disapproval heavy in her voice.

Rick finally calmed down enough to look at what he had done. Mike lay sprawled in spilled punch, unconscious, and with what looked to be a broken nose.

"Daddy!" Andre cried from somewhere behind Rick. Rick closed his eyes, disappointed in himself. 'Shit!' he thought.

"Help him," Michonne said to Matthew and a couple of others in regard to Mike. She then gave Rick one more disapproving look before going to get Andre.

Rick pulled away from the two men that were holding him. He turned around to see that they were Glenn and Daryl. No one said anything for a while until Glenn finally did.

"Dude..."

0000000000000000000000000000000000

It wasn't until midnight that Rick was back in his house again. He had helped Glenn and Maggie clean up and then he had taken a walk to cool off. Plus, he wanted to avoid facing Michonne for as long as possible. He knew he had messed up.

When he walked into the living room, he saw her waiting for him.

They didn't say anything for a while.

"I put Andre to bed," she finally said. "Mike's resting up in the infirmary. He's gonna be fine."

Rick sighed. "I didn't mean to do that," he said.

"I know," Michonne replied. "But you did. Why?"

Rick sat onto the couch heavily and shrugged his shoulders. "I guess I just...I don't know..."

"Don't do that," Michonne said, going to sit beside Rick. "Tell me."

Rick shook his head, looking for the right words but failing to find them. "I don't know if I can," he said. He let his head fall back onto the back rest of the couch, again disappointed in himself. He fully expected for Michonne to give an irritated sigh. He fully expected for her to storm off to her room for his inability to speak. But none of that happened.

He felt Michonne pick up his hand. It startled him slightly at first until he saw her examining his knuckles.

"Looks like it hurts," she said of his broken skin.

"It does," Rick replied. He peeked at her curiously from underneath his lashes, waiting to see what game she was playing.

But there didn't seem to be a game. She gently laid his hand back down on his lap and leaned against the back of the couch with him. They sat there in silence for a while until she finally spoke again. "You don't have to be so defensive of us, Rick," she said. "We're real. We are."

She took Rick's hand and turned to look into his eyes. Rick was looking back at her with so much vulnerability that Michonne couldn't help but to make her next move. She leaned over and kissed him to drive her point home. She pulled away to look into his eyes. "No more restrictions."

A sigh of happiness escaped Rick's lips before he pulled her into another kiss. Perfect. Everything was truly perfect.

00000000000000000000000000000000

Carl strapped a saddle onto a horse in the dark and rode up to the gates of The Sanctuary. He was greeted by the guards there and told them that he had permission to go through.

Just when they started to open the gates, a voice stopped Carl. "Carl! What are you doing?!"

Carl turned to see his mom coming up behind him with a hood over her head. Carl rolled his eyes. "Go back, Mom."

"You're going to ASZ, aren't you?"

"Yep."

"Okay, then. I'm coming too." Carl balked as Lori climbed up onto the horse behind him. He stared over his shoulder in disbelief. "What are you waiting for?" Lori asked. "Let's go."


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18: Twisted Fairy Tale**

Early morning light peeked through the window of the Grimes' bedroom. The sunlight filtered in and caressed the soft white sheets that laid over Michonne's body. Only her shoulders stood out from beneath the blankets. A lovely brown contrast to the fabric she nestled under. Her hair spilled out across her pillow.

Rick had the crazy urge to play with each loc. He wanted to sink his fingers into her hair and then sink his fingers into her until soft moans and his name fell from her lips.

But he didn't do that. He was enjoying watching her sleep.

He looked down at his bandaged hand. His knuckles still throbbed with pain, but her care made the pain inconsequential.

 _'We're real. We are.'_ Rick smiled as Michonne's words came back to him.

She shifted in her sleep and Rick knew she was on the verge of waking up. He slid beneath the sheets so that he could lie beside her. The strap of her tank top was falling askew so he fixed it for her. His touch caused Michonne's eyes to flutter open. He smiled when she turned over to look at him. And when her lips slid into a smile he knew he would be able to wake up to every morning from then on, Rick kissed her shoulder. "Good morning."

"Good morning," Michonne replied, her voice slightly husky from sleep. "What are you doing up?"

"Watching you..."

Another smile graced Michonne's lips as she tried to pull herself out from under the draw of comfort that tempted her to close her eyes again and snuggle back into Rick's warmth. "You need to find yourself another hobby..." she muttered.

"Never." Rick wrapped his arm around Michonne's middle and gently urged her over onto her back to face him. He leaned down to kiss her lips that seemed to invite him with every smile. When he tried to urge her lips open for a deeper kiss, he met resistance. "...What's wrong?" he asked.

"I haven't brushed my teeth yet..."

"That doesn't matter." Rick moved to capture her lips and Michonne dodged him. His resulting kisses on her cheek and down to her neck caused her to giggle. Rick was enamored of the sound. He lifted his head to watch the joy play across her face.

She sobered up when she saw the way he was looking at her. He looked at her in a way that made her stomach flip as if she was starting the drop at the summit of a roller coaster.

When he leaned down to kiss her again, she let him. She allowed his tongue to slide between her lips and against her own.

Michonne deepened the kiss and opened her body towards him as an offering for him to touch her. She expected him to run his hand gently down her shoulder and caress her breast, to go even further and push his fingers beneath the band of her pants.

She was surprised when he ended the kiss.

He stroked her cheek and a contemplative expression touched his face.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"...You put Andre to bed last night..." he said, voicing something that had been bothering him since last night. "How was he? Does he hate me?"

Michonne smiled, amused at Rick's concern. She stroked her fingers through his hair in a soothing manner, but that was the only soothing she did. "I don't know..." she teased. "You're gonna have to find out. Even though he didn't cry, I could tell he was upset..."

Rick's expression became even more worried. "Well, what do you suggest I do?"

Michonne shrugged. "You're just gonna have to make it up to him."

"How?"

"I don't know," Michonne said. She got up from the bed. "I'll let you figure it out."

"Wait. Where are you going?" Rick asked, disappointed to see her standing up and heading for the bathroom.

"Speaking of Andre, I have to make him breakfast," Michonne replied.

"He isn't even up yet."

"It's gonna be a big breakfast. We have to start his birthday off right." She looked over her shoulder at Rick. "Tell me right now if I need to create a contingency plan for his birthday celebration."

"Don't worry," Rick stressed, following Michonne's lead and sitting up to get ready for the day. "I have everything figured out." He glanced over at Michonne suspiciously as he pulled on a pair of pants. "You know, I'm starting to think you still don't trust me."

"I trust you," Michonne replied. "But you're being awfully tight-lipped about what you have planned...I can't help but be suspicious."

"Well, I want to surprise you too," Rick said.

"Why? It's not _my_ birthday."

"Doesn't matter. I wanna surprise you anyway."

Michonne shook her head. The ease and naturality of Rick's charm made her wonder how he had managed to keep it hidden during her first days of knowing him. She stepped into the bathroom and peeked out from behind the bathroom door when she got inside. "You gonna join me?"

A huge smile spread across Rick's face and he stood up. "Yeah," he said. They had simply gone to sleep in each other's arms the night before so as far as Rick was concerned, it had been too long since the last time he had made love to Michonne. The two of them under the warm spray of water from a shower would be a perfect way to start the day.

The soft click of the door as it closed right before he reached it caused all of those imaginings to fly from Rick's head. A look of confusion crossed his face and then he heard Michonne's laughter from behind the door. She was being mischievous.

Rick turned the doorknob and found that it was locked. He sighed. He would find this amusing if he didn't want her so bad. "Michonne?" he called through the door.

"Yes?" she called back, a playful lilt in her voice.

"Will you open the door?"

"Only if you tell me what Andre and I can expect later..."

Rick chuckled softly. "Is that what this is about?"

"Mm-hmm."

Rick chuckled again. "Well-played," he said. "But I'm still not going to tell you."

"Your loss."

When Michonne didn't get a response, she opened the door a moment later to see that Rick was gone. She stepped out, surprised. A glance around the room told her that he was definitely no longer around. She put a hand on her hip, slightly annoyed. She would have been willing to negotiate if Rick had persisted. "Well, it better be a damn good surprise," she muttered before going back into the bathroom.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000

Later, during breakfast, a contrite Rick sat across from Andre who wore a scowl on his face and had his arms crossed over his chest. Michonne almost laughed at the image. It looked like Andre was waiting for an explanation.

Rick's eyes landed on something on the table that seemed to spark hope in him all of a sudden. He picked up a plate of sliced peaches and passed it to Andre. "Andre, look. Here. Peaches."

Andre pushed the plate away from him. Not even peaches could appease him today. "You're a bad man," he stated.

Rick's heart sank. He looked over at Michonne for help and she felt for him. Even though she was still annoyed that he left her high and dry that morning, she offered an assist. "Andre, are you excited for your birthday today? Rick tells me that he has something really exciting planned for you."

Andre perked up for a moment, but quickly remembered who he was in front of. He tamped down any excited curiosity and narrowed his eyes at Rick before turning away defiantly. "I don't want a party."

"Are you sure?" Rick asked. "I pulled out all the stops."

Andre peeked out from beneath his lashes. "What's that mean?"

"It means I've planned the biggest, most fun party in the ASZ for you; that's what it means."

Andre fidgeted in his seat, his pride and childish curiosity waging a war inside.

"How about this?" Michonne asked, offering more help. "We go to your party for a few minutes, test the waters, and if you still don't want a party after that...we'll just come back and have fun, just the two of us."

That seemed to rid Andre of some of his defiant air. But he still wasn't completely satisfied. "Why did he hit Daddy?" he asked his mom.

Michonne looked to Rick, giving him the chance to explain.

Rick searched for a way to explain, but he was having a difficult time. How was he supposed to tell a child why he punched his father? Especially when he wasn't particularly sorry about it. In fact, he'd probably do it again. He'd just look around to make sure the man's son wasn't there first.

"Your father and I..." Rick struggled for the right words.

Michonne raised her eyebrows and waited, curious as to what he was going to say too. Andre stared at Rick.

"Your father and I," Rick started again. His eyes found Michonne's and he suddenly thought of something. "We both think your mother's beautiful."

Michonne's eyes widened. She hadn't expected to factor into his explanation. She chuckled. "Oh my God..." Andre's eyes went to his mom and then back to Rick.

"Your Mom or Dad ever read you fairy tales?" Rick continued.

Andre nodded.

"Well, your mom is like the princess in a fairy tale."

"Why are you bringing me into this?" Michonne asked, embarrassed, when Andre whipped his head around to look at her with wide eyes. She went over to Rick and stroked his hair. "Andre, Rick punched your father because Rick has anger issues-"

"Hey! Don't tell the kid that," Rick reprimanded gently. Michonne laughed as Rick took her hand and wrapped it around his shoulder. Andre carefully took in their interaction.

"Anyway, Andre," Rick said, looking at the little boy again. "Your mother is like the princess in the story and your father and I are like two princes." Michonne shook her head, having no idea where this was going. "A fairy tale usually only has one prince, but someone wrote this one wrong and put in two." Andre's forehead crinkled up into confusion.

"You're just confusing him," Michonne laughed.

"You're not helping," Rick said from between clenched teeth to keep Andre from hearing.

"I tried; you told me to be quiet." Michonne kissed his cheek and went over to continue preparing Andre's breakfast dishes. Rick was on his own.

"So...Let's see..." Rick continued clumsily. "Your mom used to be your Daddy's princess." Michonne shook her head, not knowing whether to laugh or stop Rick in his tracks before he said something too odd. "But their love magic started to wear off."

'Love magic?' Michonne mouthed, her amusement winning out.

"Then Princess Mom was moved to another kingdom and she decided to choose me as her prince. Your dad came after her, though, claiming she was still his princess even though it's no longer true. So, me, as the rightful prince – I had to show him that he could no longer try to steal the princess away." Michonne smiled at the story that was actually quite charming and she brought their plates over to them. She sat down at the head of the kitchen island with her plate as well. "Do you understand?" Rick asked, watching Andre's face carefully.

"So you punched him..." Andre finished.

"...Yeah," Rick answered. "It probably wasn't the right thing to do, but I acted without thinking."

Andre turned to Michonne. They watched him carefully, unsure about how much of the story he had gotten. "You don't like Daddy anymore?" he asked Michonne.

Michonne's mouth opened, taken aback by the question. "Well, I-" How could she explain to him all of the complications of adulthood? "I like him as a person, but not as a...prince." She shook her head, unable to believe that she was using Rick's strange analogy. Rick smiled and placed his hand over Michonne's on the table.

Andre watched the action. "You like Mama..." he said to Rick, making sense of it all.

Rick nodded. "I do."

"And you like Rick..." Andre asked of his mother.

"I do," Michonne replied. She looked at Rick and he squeezed her hand.

"You don't like Daddy as a prince..."

"That's right."

"But he still likes you as a princess."

"He does," Rick said with a nod.

Andre was quiet as he thought it over. His fingers moved on the table on either side of his plate. "What do you think about that?" Michonne asked.

Andre looked up, seeming to have come to a decision. "I think that Mommy has made her choice. Daddy can't force you to be his princess." He pointed at Rick and Michonne. "You are prince and princess." Rick and Michonne smiled. They not only felt as if their relationship had been blessed, but Rick was happy that his silly story was actually understood by the boy. Michonne reached over and ruffled Andre's hair.

"My peanut is so smart," she mused.

"But Mama..."

"Yeah, baby?"

"Your love magic for me hasn't worn off, has it?"

The fork that Michonne had just picked up went back down to her plate. "No," she said, getting up from her seat. "No, Sweeheart, that's impossible. My love magic for you is stronger than ever and only continues to grow." She wrapped her arms around him and placed a kiss on his forehead.

Andre smiled. "My love magic for you is _THIS_ big," he said, throwing his small arms as far out as they could go. Michonne laughed and Rick smiled, enjoying watching the two of them in front of him. He released a sigh of contentment and turned to his breakfast of bacon, eggs, and pancakes while his family giggled across from him.

"So, Andre, do you think you'll go to your birthday party?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Great." Michonne gave Andre one last kiss on his forehead and went back to her place at the kitchen island. "We're all set to go," she said to Rick. "Impress us."

"Impress us!" Andre echoed, his arms thrown high and a happy smile on his face. Now that he had gotten some answers, the excitement he had been holding back was getting ready to burst from his body.

"Oh, I will," Rick promised. "Just wait and see."

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

And impress, he did.

Daryl came knocking on their door in the middle of breakfast and he and Rick shared a whispered conversation before Rick turned to them with a satisfied smile on his face.

He led them out of the door and both Michonne's and Andre's mouths dropped open when they reached the threshold. Andre's birthday celebration was bigger than even their wedding celebration had been. The community looked like a festival. Snack setups were placed all around town. "Happy Birthday, Andre," was placed in the windows of shops and people's homes. Michonne looked up to make sure there wasn't a message written in the sky. There wasn't, but if Rick had the means, she was sure there would've been.

"When did you get all of this set up?" she asked, holding onto Andre who was trying to run off to a large bouncy castle he saw in the distance.

"While you were asleep," Rick replied. "I snuck out of the bed the minute you started snoring and started setting up with a few other people. I got back in only this morning right before you woke up." Michonne stared at Rick as he gazed out at his handiwork. A proud smile ghosted his face and his blue eyes sparkled. Michonne thought he had never looked more sexy.

"Tonka truck!"

Michonne could no longer hold onto Andre. He sprinted out of her grasp towards Glenn, who had squeezed himself into a large, toy, mobile Tonka truck and was driving past. "Be careful!" Michonne called as she watched him jump into the spot beside Glenn, who moved over as much as he could to make room.

"And when did you get all this stuff?!" she asked Rick.

"Heath and Daryl would go out periodically every day and raid every toy store they could find. Before long, we had us a nice hall that we kept hidden in the back of the pantry."

Michonne stepped into Rick's side and wrapped her arms around his waist. "You have no idea how much this is turning me on right now," she whispered.

Rick turned to Michonne, an intrigued smile on his lips. "I can't wait to find out."

"Mommy, Rick! Come play!"

Andre's voice called out to them. "Hold that thought..." Rick said to Michonne before leaning down to place a kiss on her lips. He took her hand and they went running to where Glenn and Andre were.

For hours, they were dragged here and there by Michonne's excited son until finally Andre was distracted by other kids and he ran off to play with them.

After eating lunch, Rick offered to show Michonne some shooting tips like he had promised. He took her down to the gun range, put his pistol on 'Safety' so that they didn't actually fire the weapon during the festivities, and then he placed the gun in her hands.

He stood behind her and lifted her arms to where they should be. "You should have it aimed right at eye level," he said, his husky voice in her ear.

Michonne wasn't even concentrating on what he was saying. She was concentrating on his touch. He ran his hands along her arms as he positioned her. His leg went in between hers to space her feet out to the desirable width.

Michonne's breathing grew heavy.

"Whenever there's a target in front of you, you need to be completely focused," Rick said. "Are you focused?"

"Yep," Michonne lied.

Rick's arm was wrapped around her waist. He could feel her heightened breaths. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yep," Michonne lied again.

Rick slid his hand up to cover her breast. "Are you still focused?" Michonne's breath hitched in her throat.

"I thought you brought me out here to give me shooting tips," she said.

"That was just an excuse," Rick said, his breath hitting her neck. "I want you to show me just how turned on you are."

Michonne didn't need to be asked twice. She dropped Rick's gun to the ground and turned in his arms to press her body against his.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Holed up in the shed next to the training grounds that they had turned into an armory, Rick and Michonne released their desire for each other. Both of their pants were around their ankles and their moans filled the small space as Rick sank into her from behind.

He held onto her waist as she used the wall as leverage to push back against him with each of his thrusts.

Rick's eyes hazed with lust as she passionately enveloped him in her warmth over and over again. "I love you," the words fell from his lips without much preamble or warning. "I love you."

Michonne paused in her actions, wondering if she was hearing Rick correctly. But if he thought there was anything shocking about his words, Rick didn't show it. He continued to enter her with his hard length and he reached around her to give some attention to her clitoris.

Michonne moaned with pleasure. 'Maybe he was just saying words in the heat of passion?' she wondered.

Her thoughts were scattered completely when he increased pressure on her bud of sensitive nerves.

"Oh, God, yes Rick," she moaned.

She hoped no one would walk near the armory. The walls weren't that thick so if anyone walked by they would hear them. She bit her lip, trying to keep quiet.

Rick swept Michonne's hair aside so that he could kiss her neck as he entered her. His hips stopped moving. "Turn around," he whispered.

Michonne did so, stepping out of her pants, and Rick lifted her up against the wall. Michonne wrapped her legs around his waist and allowed Rick to stroke her into ecstasy. Just as they reached their peaks together, an explosion shook the walls around them. For one silly moment, Michonne thought it was just a side effect of her orgasm, but then she got her senses about her.

She and Rick shared a panicked look.

They fixed their clothes on their bodies and went running out of the armory. Just as they expected, people were screaming and running to their homes. They went running to the front of the community. Makeshift bombs in glass bottles were being thrown over the walls. One of the ASZ guards had been struck by one and was on fire. They were under attack.

"Everyone get in position!" Rick shouted. "Don't panic! Get in position!"

Michonne only had one thought on her mind. "Andre!" she called. "Andre!"

"Go find him," Rick said to her. "Don't worry; he's around here somewhere."

Michonne nodded and went running to find him. Any child below the age of ten pulled her attention and her fear grew every time it wasn't him. "Andre!" she called. She ran toward Mike's house and saw him coming down his front steps looking around wildly. His face was bruised and his nose was still bandaged.

"Is Andre with you?" Michonne asked.

"No. I was gonna ask you the same thing!" Mike answered.

Michonne immediately went running toward her house. Her legs almost gave way in relief when she saw Andre there in Glenn's arms. She ran toward them and took a crying Andre from Glenn's arms. She looked him over quickly and saw that nothing was physically wrong with him; he was just crying from fright. "Shh, shh," she comforted. "It's gonna be okay."

"I'm gonna go help Rick," Glenn said. Michonne nodded and he went running off.

She turned to hand Andre over to Mike. "Here," she said. "Watch him and make sure _nothing_ happens to him."

"Where are you going?!" Mike asked disbelievingly.

"I have to help fight."

"I can't believe this..." Mike muttered.

"Don't leave me, Mama," Andre cried, his arms tight around her neck. "Don't leave!"

Michonne stroked Andre's back, struggling with what to do. "Okay," she finally said. "Okay. Mama won't leave. Let me just grab my sword, okay?" She walked into the house with Andre clinging to her and immediately had a strange feeling.

She moved carefully into the room and grabbed her sword from where it was leaning beside the door.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000

In the kitchen, Lori and Carl stood huddled in a corner. Carl had his weapon pulled just in case whoever just entered the house came through the threshold.

\- We're gonna find out how Lori and Carl ended up in the Grimes' kitchen in the next chapter and how and why the attack is happening at this moment in time. -


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19: Rick's Princess**

Lori reached forward to brush a fallen leaf from Carl's hair, but her touch never reached him because he jerked away from her. A sting of hurt touched Lori's heart. "...There's a leaf in your hair," she stated. An impatient brush of Carl's own hand sent the leaf falling to the ground.

"You shouldn't have come," Carl said. "You've ruined everything." He glanced around the clearing they had stopped in, wondering if he should just go back to the Sanctuary. This was meant to be a recon mission. His mother coming along complicated everything. "Did you tell him you were coming?"

Lori didn't need to ask who he was referring to when he said 'him'. "No," she answered.

Carl sighed and rolled his eyes toward the sky.

Lori stared with a mix of affection and sadness at her son who was more and more resembling a man. "Look, Carl, calm down," she said.

"He's going to think you're trying to escape," Carl said, not in the mood to be placated. "He's going to send someone after you."

A tendril of a thought brushed across Lori's mind. One she used to entertain frequently but had given up on in recent months. "Well, why don't we?" she asked.

Carl looked at his mother with a furrowed brow. "What?"

"Let's just leave," Lori said, becoming inspired the more the thought possessed her. "Now."

Carl scoffed. "We can't just leave. The Saviors practically own this whole area."

"Then we'll go back to Georgia or something!" Lori responded. "This world is bigger than the Saviors."

"We should've never left Georgia!" Carl growled. He put his foot into his horse's stirrup and climbed back into the saddle. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" Lori asked, climbing back onto the horse with him.

"Alexandria," Carl responded. "The plan hasn't changed."

"What exactly do you plan to do there?"

"Like I said..." Carl gently kicked the horse to get it to start. "I'm going to find out their weaknesses."

"Carl," Lori chastised. "You shouldn't get involved in this war."

"Lori!" Lori gasped, pained with Carl addressing her so distantly. "I'm already involved. Aren't you the one who was always saying, 'This is how we survive'? Well... _this_ is how we survive."

"By becoming him?" Lori asked.

Carl didn't respond. "Hopefully we make it back before he does anything drastic," Carl said.

A heaviness settled on Lori's heart and, for a moment, she mourned the boy her son used to be. And she couldn't help but to blame herself for the distant type of man he was becoming. "Sometimes you remind me of your father," she said suddenly. "I don't know what's going on in that head of yours..."

"Don't mention him," Carl clipped in a hard tone. "You don't have the right."

Lori ignored Carl's tone. She knew he didn't like her to bring up his father because he blamed her for becoming one of Negan's wives. But, no matter Carl's scorn, she couldn't muster any feeling of shame for how she handled things. "Carl, I'm not going to apologize for keeping us alive the best way I knew how."

Carl huffed a sigh of discontent. "Can we go the rest of the way in silence?" he asked. "Please?"

Lori wished there was something she could say to repair the two years of growing resentment in Carl's heart, but there was nothing she could think of to say. Nothing that would make him laugh or joke around with her like he used to. She wrapped her arms around her little boy, wanting to hold onto him forever, and she respected his wishes. They traveled the rest of the way to Alexandria in silence.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

When they were about two miles out from the walls of Alexandria, they stopped. It was still somewhat dark outside and judging from when they left, Carl surmised that the sun would probably be rising in at least a couple of hours.

"How do you plan to get in?" Lori asked.

"I wasn't planning on you coming," Carl said. "But since you're here, I figure it can probably be useful."

Lori looked at him questioningly and he nodded towards a couple of men posted just off of the road leading to the gates of Alexandria. He had noticed them as he stowed away in the Hilltop carriage last time. He figured a couple of guards must always be posted on the road to give a heads-up in case there was any kind of trouble.

"You think we should knock them out?" Lori asked.

"No," Carl said. "We'll be a little more subtle."

00000000000000000000000000000000000000

Lori felt the churning of nerves in her stomach as she made her way towards the guards on the road. She still wasn't fully on board with her son planning a solo recon mission inside the walls of an enemy community, but the fact that she had barely spent two full days with her son without interruption or tension for almost a year kept her aligned with his plan. She enjoyed spending time with him – even if it _was_ time spent on something she would rather not be a part of.

"Sir?"

She got one of the guard's attention with a soft, shaky voice. He turned to her and Lori could make out the handsome face of a young man. He was a brunette and his hair almost blended into the night surrounding them.

Slightly startled upon her approach, he lifted his rifle higher in his arms.

"Who are you?" he asked.

The guard across from him watched them carefully. He aimed his weapon at the strange woman who had just made an appearance. Lori glanced at him.

The other guard was somewhat bulkier than the one she had approached and Lori could tell that he meant business. She raised her hands into the air.

"Hi. I'm just looking for a little food," she said to the guard she was near.

He looked around suspiciously, peering at the area from whence she came. "How did you get here?" he asked.

Lori shrugged helplessly. "Walked."

The guard looked her up and down, still suspicious.

"I'm really tired," Lori said. "And hungry. I was with a group of people, but then I lost them...I think they died..." She tried to look as haunted as she possibly could and hoped that the guard would buy into the 'helpless female' act.

He still looked unsure. "Hey, Scott," he called to the other guard who still had his weapon trained on Lori. "What do you think?"

"What do you want?" Scott asked Lori, still gauging the situation for himself.

"Just a little food," Lori said with a small shrug. "Maybe some water?" She looked between the two guards. "...Is there a place you're staying that's possibly safe?"

Scott and the other guard looked around the area, still not trusting the situation.

"We should call one of the recruiters out here to question her," Scott finally said.

The guard standing beside Lori reached for the walkie on his hip. That provided enough of a distraction for Carl to appear behind him and knock him out with a large branch that he must have found on the forest floor. Before Scott could react, Carl pulled his gun on him. "Put it down," he said.

Scott hesitated, looking between the woman and boy with an angry scowl on his face. He reached for the walkie on his hip and Carl fired. Lori covered a scream with her hands.

"Did you kill him?" she asked, already making her way over to the guard that had collapsed to the ground.

"Don't go near him!" Carl yelled, aware that the man could still pose a threat. "I didn't kill him." He stalked over, past his mother and brought the branch down on the other man's head with all of his strength – knocking him out as well. "Let's take their walkies and tie them up. That should give us time to get in and get out without being noticed."

"What if he loses too much blood?" Lori asked, her eyes still trained on the guard called Scott. She had seen enough harshness in this world; she wasn't keen on seeing her son become a murderer and following that same path.

"We don't have time to think about that now," Carl said, turning Scott's body over. He nodded to the first guard he had knocked out while he grabbed Scott's walkie. "Get his."

Lori went over to do so. "And, now, how are we going to get inside?" she asked as she took the guard's communication device into her hand. "If we've knocked both of them out."

Carl put Scott's walkie to his lips. "Anyone there?" he asked, deepening his voice and imitating the one he had just heard.

Responsive static and a replying voice soon came over the connection. "Scott, is that you?"

"Yeah. I'm going to be coming back to base for a minute; I need you to open the gates."

"Do you need us to send someone out to replace you?"

"No. I'll just be in and out. Got some pepper spray in my eyes and I just need to wash it out."

"Pepper spray? How did that happen? Was Spencer being careless again?" Carl and Lori looked over to the other guard laying out on the ground. Lori met Carl's eyes and shrugged. She would guess that it was Spencer, but she couldn't be sure.

"Yeah," Carl answered, risking it.

"Goddamnit...Alright. We'll open the gates for you. Let us know when you're close."

Lori stared at Carl in astonished silence and Carl felt a rush of relief. His plan was actually working. "Alright," he said, and – thinking ahead – he continued. "And this hurts like hell so don't shine that light in my eyes when I get there." A community like Alexandria, he figured, must have lights stationed at the entryway to see any guests that may wander across them in the dark. He couldn't have them shining a light only to see that Scott wasn't who they were letting into their compound.

"Understood," the reply came.

Carl took his finger off of the communication button and pushed the walkie into his back pocket. That had gone better than he had expected.

"Now what?" Lori asked again. "You can't really impersonate that man. He's much bigger than you."

"I can't," Carl responded. "But you can."

000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Lori piled her hair on top of her head and pulled on a cap that Carl had found in the pocket of Scott's jacket, which she now wore.

She frowned as she noticed how it hung off of her willowy frame.

"This isn't going to work," she said to Carl. "They'll easily be able to tell it's not him."

"Not if you keep your head low and don't speak." He procured gloves from Spencer's jeans pocket. "Here," he said, handing them to her. "Wear these."

Lori took them from him, but no matter how much she thought about this, she didn't think it was a good idea. She made up her mind. "That's enough, Carl. Let's go."

"What?"

"I've humored you enough. We're not doing this."

" _I_ am!" Carl said challengingly.

"No, you're not!" Lori demanded, her voice hard. "I am your mother and you're going to listen to me. This is too dangerous. We're going to take this horse, and we're just going to keep going. Somewhere else. Somewhere on our own so we can build a life for ourselves." She started heading back towards the horse.

" _Now_ you want to be my mother," Carl said contemptuously.

Lori stopped in her tracks and turned back to Carl. "What?" He stared at her defiantly. "Carl, I have never stopped being your mother!" She walked back towards him, trying to get him to understand. "I know you blame me for staying with Negan," she said. "Sometimes, even I wonder if I did the right thing. But I'm not going to apologize for doing what I needed to do to survive. To keep the both of us alive!"

"You left Dad."

Lori's heart sank. She knelt down to look into Carl's eyes and put her hand on his shoulder. "Oh, sweetheart..." He jerked away.

"Carl," Lori corrected, knowing how being treated like a child annoyed him. "We had to. Your father was dead. It was the hardest decision of my life, but I had to get us out of there. I had already lost Rick; I wasn't going to lose you too."

Carl's stare remained hard. "You didn't seem to miss him," he accused. "You had Shane. Remember him?"

Lori sighed and a deep well of sadness filled her being. She knew she had disappointed Carl, but it wasn't until now that she was getting a glimpse of just how much.

He pulled away from her. "I'm going in there. Whether you come or not." He began to walk away.

"Carl!" Lori called after him before getting up to follow. She knew that it was either go into danger together or send him into danger alone. And that wasn't an option. "Carl! Wait!"

0000000000000000000000

Lori approached the gates, keeping her head low. The darkness of the early morning was just beginning to brighten and she was sure that there was no way that they wouldn't be found out. Scott's jacket hung off of her and each step she took felt awkward. She felt as if she was heading to the gallows.

Carl watched his mother from within the protection of the trees. He was more anxious about this than he had previously let on. If anything were to happen to her, he would be one hundred percent responsible.

He gripped the walkie he held tighter in his hand and when she began to come into view of the gate, he put it to his lips. "I'm walking up," he said in his Scott-voice through the transmitter.

"Yeah, we see you," came the reply. "Hold it there!" the guard at the wall called.

Carl's heart pounded in his chest.

Lori's heart beat a rhythm ten times faster. She felt dwarfed in Scott's clothing, and she felt as if no cap was big enough to disguise the stark contrast of her visuals versus those of the man who called himself Scott.

For a frightful moment, Carl thought they were going to demand that she show them her face. But the guard's next command sent a wave of relief through him.

"Open the gates," the guard said.

Lori, herself, felt relieved and then anxious at actually going inside the walls. If someone checked her inside, she'd be in deep trouble. She hoped to make her way through unbothered and then head towards one of the back walls of the perimeter. Carl told her there were footholds there that she could climb – that a boy he knew snuck over the wall in such a way. The plan was that she would meet Carl there and help to hoist him over, inside the compound. Then they would be home free.

Well...as home free as they _could_ be in a community surrounded by enemies.

The gates opened and Lori forced herself not to look back in search of Carl. She was sure he would be there. She just had to do her part seamlessly.

She stepped through the gates and was greeted by a surprising sight; the community was slightly active!

A few people were running here and there with what looked like...decorations! Lights were being strung up on windows and out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw a bouncy castle. It looked like they were preparing for some festivity.

'Under the threat of war?' Lori mused.

It hit her as a stark contrast to the hard and dank atmosphere she had left behind. Any fun had at the Sanctuary was usually at the expense of someone else or there was a feeling of tension underlying it, but this...this reminded her of what used to be. Before the apocalypse struck and tore everything apart.

These feelings managed to make themselves known even under the layer of anxiety she felt at realizing the community wasn't sound asleep like she had been hoping.

"It's Andre's birthday," the guard from behind Lori said, a grin apparent on his face even though she was only hearing his voice. "The leader's trying to impress his new wife and son." The other guard at the gate laughed jovially at the first guard's statement.

Lori didn't know how to respond without alerting him to her deceit so she simply nodded.

Before they could try to engage her in anymore conversation, she started walking. She hoped that they wouldn't stop her. Or that no one along the way would stop her either. She needed to get to her and Carl's meeting place.

When she wasn't stopped, she realized that the few bustling bodies may actually be advantageous. No one was paying attention to her.

She made her way quickly towards the back of the community.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"Carl?" Lori whispered loudly. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was near her. The immediate area around her was empty.

"Carl," she whispered again. She had found what she thought to be the section of wall Carl had been talking about. There were supports built into the metal that could be climbed. "Ca-"

"I'm here."

Lori released a sigh of relief and looked around once more before stepping up onto the wall and pulling herself up to look over the side. "It's too high to pull you up," she said, looking down at Carl more than two feet below her.

"I'll find something to stand on," Carl said. "Then I'll jump up to you. Wait there."

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

It wasn't easy or smooth getting Carl over the wall, but finally Lori managed to pull him over and they fell to the earth with a thud. Thankfully, they were mostly hidden by buildings and they remained unnoticed.

They quickly got up and dusted themselves off.

"We have to move quickly," Carl said. "It won't be long before those two guards wake up and send warning."

"They're having some kind of celebration," Lori said. "A birthday party."

"Good," Carl replied. "Maybe they'll be distracted."

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Carl already knew from his stake-outs outside the walls that the guards took six-hour shifts. He also knew that there were about five or six regulars who stood on guard duty – the woman he had run into being one of them.

From the inside, he would be able to see which areas were weak and which were heavily guarded at all times. He would also be able to see about how many people resided in the Alexandria Safe Zone.

"Let's find where they hold their weapons," Carl said.

The sun was coming up and he wanted to get as much information as possible – to see how well-stocked they were.

Lori caught Carl by the arm to stop him. "I don't think we should walk around like this," she said. "I think we'll draw too much attention."

"Then what do you want to do?" Carl asked.

Lori took the cap off of her head and let her hair fall around her shoulders. "We should look less suspicious. Like we live here. Maybe people will think we do."

Carl didn't have time to agree or disagree with the plan because someone interrupted them. "Hey."

Lori and Carl turned toward the person who called out to them. It was an African American man with dreadlocks pulled into a ponytail. Lori's heart immediately began to race but she tried to keep calm. "You two from Hilltop?" he asked. His eyes swept them curiously, taking in the large jacket Lori wore. At the sight of it, his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Uh...no," Lori said, trying to think quickly. "We-"

"Is that Scott's jacket?" the man interrupted.

"It is," Lori replied. The beat of her heart was steadily imitating a jackhammer going on full power.

Carl discreetly wrapped his fingers around the butt of his gun, which was tucked into the back of his pants.

"He lent it to us," Lori said, placing her hand on Carl's shoulder. "We were starving. Outside the gates."

"You're recruits?" The man still stared suspiciously.

"Yes," Lori replied quickly, taking a leap of faith.

"Recruits usually stay in the holding cell to be questioned. Have you already been interviewed?"

"Yes," Lori said again.

His wary expression didn't change. "Do you mind coming to the leader's house with me?"

The complete panic Lori had been trying not to descend into took her over, but she somehow managed to remain composed. "No," she lied with a tight-lipped smile. "I don't mind at all." She squeezed Carl's shoulder again, hoping he wouldn't do anything drastic. She didn't know how they were going to get out of this, but she knew trying anything would be the absolute worst thing they could do.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Things moved quickly from there.

The sun had risen to the sky and Lori and Carl found themselves at the home of whoever it was that led this community.

Lori was quite shocked to see that the celebration that everyone had been preparing for seemed to have started. The juxtaposition of all of the happiness permeating around the community versus her own inner panic made her feel that much more anxious.

She didn't know whether she and her son would be killed or locked up on sight, but she knew whatever happened – it wouldn't be good. The problem was that she saw no other way out of this either. After they had gotten so far...

But Lori couldn't help but to feel that they were granted a temporary reprieve when it was discovered that the leader wasn't in.

"He must've already left with his wife and son..." Heath said.

Lori waited for what his next move would be. He obviously still didn't trust them. But he didn't have a chance to interrogate them further; an explosion sounded throughout the community.

The shock and fear of the town was immediate.

Carl and Lori looked at each other, sharing the same thought. Negan. But Lori was shocked that he would have come so soon. Lori felt a tug on her arm and she looked down to see that Carl was pulling her in another direction. She glanced at Heath to see that he was distracted – his head turned away from them. Not hesitating to run after Carl, they made their way to the back of the home they had just knocked on the door of.

"What are we going to do?" Lori asked when they were safely separated from Heath. "I think that's Negan."

"I don't know," Carl replied. "But he's just ruined our entire plan." His eyes fell on Ron, and he knew he and Lori had to get out of sight before they were noticed. Because before long, an all-out war was about to be declared.

"You know what this means," Lori said, suddenly fearful. "He thinks I'm trying to run away." Her face paled. "He's not going to like that."

Carl sighed, upset by the turn of events. "We can't go back there," Carl said. "Not until we have some kind of insurance." He glanced at what he now knew to be an empty house. "Let's hide out in here," he said. "Wait it out."

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Michonne walked into the house with Andre clinging to her and immediately had a strange feeling. She moved carefully into the living room and and grabbed her sword from where it was leaning beside the door.

She walked towards the kitchen and immediately paused when she saw shattered glass littering the floor. The result of a broken window.

She began to back away with the thought of getting Andre to safety.

"Stop."

Her sword arm reflexively came up to point at the young boy who came around the corner to greet her with a raised gun. It didn't take her long to recognize him as the young boy she had run into in the woods. She felt a quiet rage, feeling silly for considering for a moment not to go after him. Rick was right. They no longer had the luxury of being merciful. She could have forgiven the first incident, but she wouldn't forgive being the target of his weapon twice – and with her son in her arms.

She gave him a hard stare. "What are you doing here?" she asked coldly.

Someone else stepped from around the corner; she swept her eyes to the lanky female while keeping her sword drawn on the boy.

"...Are you the leader?" the woman asked Michonne.

"Why?" Michonne asked.

Lori stepped forward and pushed Carl's weapon down. "We'd like sanctuary."

\- Mostly wrote from Lori and Carl's perspective this chapter...I'll be moving forward from this point in the next :). And I'll try not to take as long with the update. Lol. -


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20: Reunion**

Slick hair and a toothy grin. That is what Rick faced as he looked through the gate surrounding his home. He figured this must be the man he had heard so much about. Negan, the man with the sharp tongue, charismatic looks, and the army of hundreds.

"Well," Negan said, throwing his arms wide. The barbed wire bat in his hand didn't escape Rick's notice. "Looks like we finally meet. I've heard a lot about you. You gonna invite me in?"

Rick scanned the area behind Negan. Four men holding automatic weapons were in his line of vision. No match for the group of men gathered around Rick, waiting for any word from him. But from the ruckus that was created with the Saviors' arrival, Rick knew there must be more of them. Just out of sight. He wondered where Spencer and Scott were and why they weren't able to warn them of an oncoming threat before Negan was standing here at their gates.

"No," Rick responded. "No. I...I think I'll get to know you a little bit better first."

Negan chuckled at Rick's verbal wit. "Cute," he muttered. "Well hell, why don't we introduce ourselves first? I'm Negan and you are...?"

Rick's lip curled. He hated the false gentility of this fellow. "...Rick."

"Rick. Well, how are you doing, Rick?"

A snake of disgust twisted in Rick's belly. He didn't like the way his name slid off of the other man's tongue so easily like they were somehow familiar.

"My people have been telling me about how you're gonna be a pain in the ass. But I think we can work things out between ourselves, don't you? Without things getting too assfucked?"

"Sure..." Rick snarled. "How about you stay on your side of town and I stay on mine?"

Negan laughed. His lackeys followed suit.

"You're funny," Negan said, nodding. "Nah. See...You don't seem to understand something. But I'll explain it to ya because I'm a fucking saint." Rick shifted on his feet, his legs were getting tired from standing and his patience was wearing thin due to Negan's drivel. "There is no "your" side of town. There's only mine. Everything is mine." He gestured with his bat. "This pretty little beauty is mine." He pointed at the gate. "That gate is definitely mine. Shit, the cement I'm standing on is mine. The woman that you now have within your shitty little community is mine. And...if you don't send her back, your ass will be mine."

Rick's face scrunched in utter confusion. In his mind, Negan hadn't spoken a sensible word since his mouth opened but he had completely gotten lost at the point where he mentioned a woman.

"Woman?" he asked. "What woman?"

"What woman?" Negan chuckled again. His laugh held a tense and unhumored undercurrent before it stopped completely and he met Rick's eyes with anger flashing across his own. "My wife."

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

With narrowed and suspicious eyes, Michonne studied the thin brunette. There were tears in the woman's eyes, but her chin was raised determinedly. Michonne stayed guarded.

"That man out there has come for us," the woman continued. "We don't want to go back."

"Mom, what are you doing?" the young boy demanded, his voice hard.

"Hush, Carl."

"I thought your name was Rick," Michonne said, cutting her eyes to Carl.

"His name's Carl," the woman offered readily. Michonne guessed she was trying to gain as much trust as possible. But Michonne wasn't quite sure whether to give it to her. "My name is Lori. Please," Lori said, pleading with her eyes as well as her words. "We don't want to be with that group any longer."

"How do I know that you're not trying to pull something?" Michonne asked. "You expect me to believe you want to run away and join our community right before war happens? You're probably trying to get inside information." Michonne cut her eyes to Carl again. "It wouldn't be the first time."

Carl glared back, showing her that he was neither sorry nor afraid.

"I promise that's not why we're here," Lori said. "I don't know how to make you believe it. We can only do that with time. I can- I can tell you things. I can describe The Sanctuary to you. Please."

"Mom!" Carl pulled away from his mother and raised his gun again. Michonne's eyes widened and she reflexively moved to strike but Lori stepped in front of her son, blocking his aim and guarding his body.

"Carl, stop it," Lori said, still watching Michonne carefully. "This is what we have to do."

"You also said that about staying at The Sanctuary," Carl argued. But he lowered his gun. He still glared a warning at Michonne, though.

Michonne considered seriously. She couldn't trust them, of course, but she didn't see the point of coming to ask for sanctuary right before a war – when she and all of ASZ would have heightened suspicions. So the request seemed genuine. Plus, if the woman really was willing to give them information, that would be helpful.

"Come with me," she said, stepping back to let them go in front of her. Her sword was still held on them.

"Where are we going?" Lori asked fearfully.

"Holding cell," Michonne answered. "You'll stay there until we can get this figured out."

Andre clung to her neck with a tight grip. He hadn't said anything since they entered the house. Michonne glanced over at him to make sure he was still okay. His eyes were wide and his lips were tightened in fear.

"It's okay," she whispered, hating that his birthday was ruined. "It's okay."

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"I don't know what you're talking about," Rick said, fed up with Negan's games. "But I think it's time you turn around and head on your way."

Exasperation pulled at Negan's facial features. "And here I thought we could fucking play nice," he mumbled.

"We don't have your wife," Rick said, his gun at his side. "But the fact that you don't know where she is means she must have run off and..." he tilted his head. "I can't really say I blame her. But you need to go looking somewhere else. She ain't here."

Rick's finger hovered at the trigger of his gun. He was ready to raise it and start firing if need be. He waited for Negan's next move.

"Okay," Negan said. The wide grin he had worn upon Rick's first sight of him grew across his face once again. "Okay," he said, backing away with his hands up. It didn't do anything to lessen his threatening presence because the barbed wire bat was still gripped firmly in his fist. "That's fine. I see what kind of fucker I'm working with here now."

"See, I was gonna cut you a deal if you just cooperated," Negan said.

"We usually introduce ourselves with a killing, but I was just going to significantly maim one of you at best. Now I'm going to graphically fucking murder two of you right in front of everyone in this community so that you can piss and shit yourselves to sleep at night just from the thought of it."

Rick tried to keep the chills from running down his back at the casual way that Negan said those words with a grin still plastered across his face.

"And I was only going to take half of your shit. Now I'm gonna take it all."

He let those words land as he stared into Rick's eyes, letting him know that he meant every word he spoke.

Rick considered the consequences of raising his gun and shooting Negan between the eyes right then and there. Did the psychopath have some contingency plan set up? How many of his men would he lose if he did it? How many men did Negan bring with him.

"But!" Negan said jovially, breaking the tension. "That'll be next time if you don't do what I say."

"I find that I'm quite a patient and reasonable son of a bitch." He looked around at his men for affirmation. They gave it by nodding back at him. Satisfied, he turned back to Rick. "So I'm willing to give you time to think over my offer. I don't like mindless fucking murder. We don't need to be killing each other and making more of those brainless assholes! We need to work together. So the less painless this is, the better."

"I'm going to give you one week to send my wife back to me. Or this war my men is so hungry for is really going to happen."

"And trust me..." He looked around at the ASZ. "Mine is bigger than yours."

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Michonne closed the door of the holding cell, locking Lori and Carl inside. She handed Carl's gun to Mike, who was waiting for her outside the door.

"Who are they?" he asked.

"Don't know," Michonne said. "But we're gonna find out."

Gunfire sounded from what seemed to be all directions and Michonne instinctively held Andre tighter and covered him with her body, even though she could tell that the gunfire wasn't directly near. Mike acted instinctively as well. He wrapped his arms around Michonne and his child, shielding them against any possible danger.

"Where's that coming from?" he asked.

"All over," Michonne answered. It was a message. They were surrounded. Michonne's concerned mind immediately went to Rick. She hoped he was doing okay. She didn't even know exactly what was going on. She didn't know whether they had started fighting with each other or whether this was just some sort of standoff.

The gunfire stopped and she pulled back to check on Andre again. He was quietly weeping. Immense pain crippled Michonne's heart at the sight. In his short life, her son had already witnessed so much horror and grief. No child should have to deal with this.

"Shh," she whispered. "It's okay. It'll be over soon. I'm here; you know I won't let anything happen to you."

Andre nodded and snuggled closer into his parents' warmth.

"Michonne."

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Rick wasn't very pleased to find his wife wrapped in the arms of her ex-lover, but he didn't have time to let petty jealousies get any focus during the important conflicts at hand.

"Oh, Rick, thank God!" she said, turning to him with Andre in her arms. Mike released her and stepped away with a displeased expression. "What's going on?"

"He left," Rick answered. "But he'll be back."

"What was all that gunfire?" Mike asked.

"He left his goons around our walls so that we won't follow them. We don't know how many there are – but we know there's a lot - so we can't risk it."

"You don't know if you have enough men to beat them?" Mike asked incredulously.

Rick turned to him with narrowed eyes, wondering where the hostility was coming from. "That's exactly right. I don't know if I have enough men to beat them. In fact, right now, I know we're outnumbered. You got anything to say about that?"

"We went through with this whole marriage thing because it was meant to give you the strength needed to win this war! And you're still saying you don't know if it's enough?!"

"We went through with this whole marriage thing-?!"

Michonne sighed and stepped between them. "What was he here for?" she asked Rick. "He came just to give us a warning."

"No," Rick said, tearing his glare away from Mike. "He claimed that we had his wife. For some reason, he thinks we took her when it's obvious that – whoever she is - she just left."

Realization dawned on Michonne.

"What is it?" Rick asked.

"I think we do have his wife," she said.

"What?"

Michonne started to hand Andre off to Mike so that she could talk to Rick in private, but Andre started to create a fuss. "Mama! Mama!" he cried, clinging to her tighter.

"I'm just giving you to your daddy," Michonne cajoled. "He's gonna take you home and I'll be there in a minute. I promise."

Andre's crying quieted down. "Promise?"

"Yeah, I promise." He released her and Michonne managed to safely hand him over to Mike. "Can you take care of him while I talk to Rick?" she asked him.

"Yeah," Mike said. "But let me ask this before I go..." he said, focusing in on Rick again. "What are you gonna do while those men just stand outside those walls with their guns drawn – ready to kill whoever's in here? You just gonna let them stay there?"

Rick gritted his teeth, weary of the other man. "I reckon they'll leave once they're sure we're not following them to their home base. But until then, I'm doubling men on guard duty." He tilted his head and asked sarcastically, "That work for you?"

"Yeah," Mike stated, before walking away. "For now."

Displeasure was evident on Rick's face as he watched the other man walk away. "We went through with this marriage," Rick mocked. "He still thinks he has some kind of stake in your life."

Michonne ignored Rick's comment; she knew there were more important matters to get to. "They're in there," she said, pointing at the door to the holding cell.

"They?" Rick asked, focusing back in on the matter at hand.

Michonne nodded. "Her and her son. I found them in our house. They had broken in. They said they wanted sanctuary."

Rick frowned. There were a lot of red flags in that story. "How'd they get in here?" he asked.

"I don't know," Michonne said. "The woman was wearing Scott's clothes."

Rick's lips clamped shut. They definitely sounded like bad news. "Open the door."

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

The suspicion and irritation Rick felt immediately faded when the cell door opened and the two prisoners who turned to face him were the two people he had been searching for for two years. The two people he thought about every day. The two people he lived for even when they were nothing but ghosts.

They were standing right in front of him. And they were real.

He froze in the doorway, wondering for a moment whether he was hallucinating. But the shock on their faces mirrored his. Whenever he imagined them, they weren't shocked to see him. They greeted him as if no time had passed. Like they had never been separated.

Now, though, time stretched between them. The missing years they had gone through without seeing each other. It was present but also unimportant as well. The minute Rick laid eyes on Lori and Carl, it seemed as if those years were nothing. His family was back again. He had found them!

"Dad?"

Carl's voice was what made the miracle that much more real.

Lori released an audible gasp and her eyes filled with tears. They hesitated no longer.

They rushed together and embraced in the middle of the room.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Michonne watched the reunion with a mixture of confusion and then dawning realization. There were only two people he would be greeting like this. His missing wife and son.

And the familiarity of Lori and Carl's names hit her. She had heard them before but where she had heard them must not have registered due to the high intensity situation of being attacked by an enemy community. But now she knew. These were the people Rick missed so much. This was the family he was always searching for.

The knowledge almost caused Michonne to stumble back with awe.

In all of Virginia...in the whole, apocalyptic world. How had they found each other? How had they both made their way from Georgia all the way to here?

It had to be fate. Or something bigger.

Michonne stepped out of the room and closed the door gently, allowing them some time alone. Then she turned and began to walk in a general direction, not quite sure where she was going for a moment.

She was overcome with happiness for Rick and she was also overcome with...confusion. And questions. Mainly, where did this leave her and the community she and Rick had started to build together. How would this affect her son, who was really starting to grow close to Rick? And also...what was she supposed to do about the feelings she had just started to allow herself to open up to again?

0000000000000000

The closing of the physical gap made the time gap seem that much more inconsequential. With his family in his arms, Rick felt like no time had passed at all.

He rested his forehead against hers before they stepped back to look at each other. There were so many words they wanted and needed to say to each other, but they didn't know where to start. Rick looked down at his son and affectionately patted the side of his face.

It was so nice to see him again. He had started to think it wouldn't be possible. "Carl," he choked out, unabashed tears in his eyes.

His hair was longer and more uncouth. His eyes weren't the innocent, curious eyes of the young boy he once knew. They were the eyes of a man who had seen a lot – more than he needed to see. Rick sighed. His eyes fell down the rest of Carl's body and landed on his Savior's vest, his jeans, his boots. He shook his head.

There was so much that he wished could be reversed or prevented.

"How did you two get here?" Rick asked.

Lori choked back her own tears. "I was going to ask you the same thing," she said. "We thought you were dead." All of the times Lori wished she could just have Rick by her side whenever she ran into situations she felt were too difficult came into her mind. Tears leaked over her lashes as a swell of gratefulness ran through her. For the first time since the apocalypse started, she felt like everything was going to be alright.

But then the years came back to her and she lowered her head. Some things had changed.

That thought seemed to penetrate Rick's mind at the same time it did hers. Negan had called her his wife. A lump formed in his throat. "You're married?" he asked. "To that jerk?"

It took a lot of effort, but Lori forced herself to nod. Then she rushed to explain. "I know it sounds bad," she said, tears still leaking down her cheeks. "But I was so scared. And desperate. That place was the first community we had come across in months. I wanted to save our lives."

Rick cupped her face and pulled her into a hug to calm her down. "Shh," he said. "It's okay. You're here now."

He wasn't going to judge anything his wife had done while they were separated. She had kept herself and their son alive. That was the most he could ask for. And he sure as hell hadn't been his best self during his years away from her and Carl. So he understood the loneliness and desperation of just trying to get through each day. It just hurt his heart that she had to endure all of that by herself. He wished he could have been there for her. And their son. Maybe things could have been a bit easier. For all of them.

He knelt down to Carl's level so that he could look into his son's eyes. There was nothing he was happier about than realizing his son was alive.

Carl hadn't said much after his initial greeting. When Rick looked into his face, he saw that it was because he was trying to hold back emotion. He shifted his gaze to hide his face when his father knelt in front of him.

Rick pulled him into another hug. "I missed you so much, Carl."

"I missed you too, Dad," he said, as he hugged his father back. But then he took a step away from his father's embrace.

Rick searched his face questioningly. Carl's face was thinner and there was a hardness in his gaze that didn't used to be there. Rick picked out all of the differences as if he was playing a Spot the Difference child's game in the seconds that he waited for Carl to tell him what was wrong. He wanted to pick out all the moments he had missed in the two years they had been separated from his son's face alone.

"You're the leader here?" Carl asked.

"Yeah," Rick said with a nod. "Yeah, I am."

"You're married too," Carl finally said. "Everyone heard about how you married some woman so that you could unite your two communities."

Michonne.

Rick looked toward the doorway where he had last seen Michonne. Of course she wasn't there. The door was closed. Rick realized she must have left to give them privacy.

In his excitement at seeing his family, everything else had slipped his mind.

"The woman with the sword is your wife," Lori said with a nod as everything she had heard connected. "You were the one throwing the party. To impress your new wife and son. That's what the guard said." Rick stood up, feeling just as turmoiled as Lori looked.

"You have another kid?" Carl asked.

Rick's mind was in a swirl. His family coming back, Michonne, Negan – a lot was suddenly coming at him with full speed. "Uhh...Michonne's son. Andre..." he said to Carl. "He's fou- five now. Today was his birthday."

"Dad, you have to get rid of them," Carl said. "So that we can be a family again."

Lori laid her hand on Carl's shoulder to quiet him down.

"You don't have to make any sudden decisions," Lori said to Rick. "I know this is all happening so fast and so much has changed."

Rick rubbed his fingers over his eyes. He almost chuckled at how he had thought life was finally just becoming a straight road for him. But now everything was so much more complicated.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Michonne sat on the couch with Andre in Mike's house. It had been hours since she had left Rick with his family. It was now dark outside. She figured she'd give him another hour and then she would go talk to him so that they could figured out their next course of action.

Anxiety twisted her stomach and chest, but she kept outwardly calm.

The thought of everything ending – everything she had just been getting used to – scared her more than she was willing to admit, but she was ready to do whatever Rick felt was best.

"Mama?"

Michonne looked down at Andre, who was cuddled by her side. He blinked drowsily up at her. "Yeah, baby?"

"I had fun today. Before my party ended."

Michonne smiled. "I'm glad."

"Where's Rick? I want to say 'thank you'."

"You can say 'thank you' tomorrow," Michonne said. "You look like you're about to fall out.."

Andre chuckled.

"You want me to take him up to bed?" Mike asked as he came out of the kitchen, carrying two steaming mugs of coffee.

"No," Andre said with a firm shake of his head.

"Uh-oh. Looks like you're gonna have a fight," Michonne said, as she handed Andre off to Mike. Andre laughed again.

"Oh, I can handle him," Mike said, playfully striking Andre under the chin with his knuckles. "I'll be right back, okay?"

"Okay.".

While Mike was off putting Andre to bed, there was a knock on the door. Michonne knew immediately who it was. Her eyes went to the clock on the wall that read nine-thirty and she stood from the couch to answer the door. She straightened her clothes as she went, wishing she could straighten out her emotions just as well.

When she opened the door and saw Rick standing on the other side, she put a smile on her face. "Hey."

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Rick and Michonne stood on the porch, looking out onto the street.

Rick scratched at his brow with his thumb.

Michonne expected him to completely break things off with her any minute.

He finally spoke. "You gonna come home?"

Michonne turned to him, surprised. She hadn't been expecting him to say that. "I figured I'd give you time with your family..." Michonne said.

"I've had time," Rick said with a nod. "I still don't know which way is up or which way is down but...I married you. You're my wife...too. I can't have you sleeping outside the home." His lips tilted up into a half-hearted smirk to show Michonne that he was trying to bring a little lightness into the situation.

She smiled, appreciative. She bit her lip as she thought things over.

The night was quiet and the heat was heavy. She still couldn't believe things had turned out this way. "...So that's them," she said.

"...Yeah." A small smile ghosted Rick's lips at the thought of them actually being alive and in his home; the joy washed over him anew every time he thought about it. Michonne noticed his smile and smiled herself. She really was glad that this was happening to him; she knew how much it had been hurting him.

"I'm happy for you, Rick."

"Yeah..." Rick said. "I am, too." He nodded toward the house. "How is Andre?"

"He's fine," Michonne said. She crossed her arms across her chest and leaned against the railing surrounding the porch. "He was a bit shaken up, but once he calmed down, he said that he enjoyed the party. Said he wants to thank you."

Rick smiled. "It really was a great party, wasn't it?"

"It was," Michonne affirmed.

Noticing that she hadn't moved from her spot on the porch, Rick tilted his head toward the direction of their house. "Come on," he said. "Sleep at home and then we can get up in the morning and figure all of this out."

"...Maybe I should just stay somewhere else until you get things figured out..." Michonne said. No matter how she thought of it, staying under the same roof with Rick, his wife, and his kid didn't seem right. "Andre's here. I'll sleep here on the couch for tonight and then I'll meet you tomorrow and we can-"

"No," Rick said. "Even if I was okay with you not sleeping at home, I'm not okay with you sleeping here."

"And you think you can tell me what to do?" Michonne challenged playfully. "You're living with your first wife!"

Rick raised a hand. "Those are extenuating circumstances," he defended.

Michonne laughed.

"Come on..." Rick said, enjoying seeing her laugh.

Michonne battled with herself. "...Fine," she finally said. "But it's separate rooms again until you know what it is you want to do." Rick nodded. "And I'm only doing this because we have more to work through than just us. We have to figure out what's best for our communities...and what to do about Negan."

Rick sighed at the thought of the other man. "Right," he said.

"I'm gonna head inside and tell Mike I'm going," she said, heading toward the door.

Rick nodded. "Say good night to Andre for me."

Michonne smiled. "He's probably already asleep. But okay."

She walked into the house and Rick waited out on the porch. He put his hands on his hips, looked up at the starless sky, and sighed. 'What am I going to do?'

\- Thank you for reading another update! Don't forget to find me on P atreon (without the space) and donate if you can! Love you guys! -


	21. Chapter 21

\- Thank you, Racquel Reid, for supporting me on P atreon. This update is dedicated to you. It's also dedicated to you, Armte, for being victim to my games. Lol. I hope you enjoy. -

 **Chapter 21: Immediate Action**

Night blanketed the Alexandria Safe Zone as Rick and Michonne made their way back towards their home. A few stars stood out in the sky and the gentle breeze ghosting through the streets left Rick feeling somewhat peaceful even though he had been threatened with war just a few hours ago. He was in a pretty good mood.

"Lori and Carl are probably waiting up in the living room," he said to Michonne as she strolled beside him, her sheathed sword in her right hand. "We should talk about what we're going to do about Negan."

Michonne nodded. Deciding how to deal with the madman perching himself on their doorstep was definitely their first agenda. Before she made it home, though, she wanted to make sure Rick understood what kind of situation they would be facing since she decided to continue her cohabitation with him. "It's probably gonna take some getting used to from them," she said. "Me being there."

Rick glanced over at her. "Yeah..." he said.

It would take some getting used to from him as well. His family was back and he was also in a unifying marriage with a woman he had come to respect and appreciate.

"We'll probably have to discuss our living arrangements among other things-"

"Rick!"

Michonne and Rick turned to look at Daryl and Glenn, who were running up to them. They were out of breath as if they were in a rush to say whatever they had to say. Michonne automatically gripped her sword tighter, reading the urgency of the situation.

"Are the Saviors still there?" she asked.

It seemed that the Saviors surrounding their community had left earlier that morning so Rick had sent Daryl, Glenn, and some others to investigate the nearby surroundings and also to check up on Scott and Spencer; the two men had not re-entered the Alexandria Safe Zone.

"No," Daryl answered Michonne. "They're gone. But so are Scott and Spencer."

Rick held back a curse that came to his lips.

"You think the Saviors took them?" Michonne asked while Rick dealt with the news.

"Had to be," Daryl responded.

Glenn looked towards Rick. "If we go after them, we're starting a war," he said. "What do you want us to do?"

"We can't leave 'em out there," Daryl said, giving his input.

Rick looked toward Michonne. She could only give him a sympathetically pensive look. She had no answers.

"Hey, man," Daryl said, getting Rick's attention. "I know they're your family and everything, but...have you considered...?"

He couldn't force himself to finish the sentence, but he didn't need to. The words he left hanging were obvious. 'Have you considered that they could be working with Negan? Have you considered that they may not be trustworthy? Have you considered that they aren't your family anymore?'

Rick gave Daryl a hard stare. "They had nothing to do with Spencer and Scott being taken."

"Uhh...They kind of did..." Glenn said. "They knocked them out and left them out there!"

Rick's hard stared moved to Glenn. "They're not working with Negan," he growled.

He was starting to regret ever telling Glenn and Daryl that Lori and Carl had returned. He hadn't told the rest of the community yet, and judging from Glenn and Daryl's need to point fingers – he was wondering if he should.

"I'm just saying it's somethin' you gotta think about..." Daryl relinquished, ending the argument there.

"We're going to figure out what to do about Negan tonight," Michonne told Daryl, giving him a reassuring nod. "Don't worry."

0000000000000000000000000000000

Rick and Michonne managed to convince Daryl and Glenn to wait until the morning when they would have something concrete.

They made it home and opened the front door to find Lori and Carl sitting on the sofa in the living room – waiting up, just like Rick said they would be.

"What's she doing here?" Carl asked when he saw Michonne trail in behind Rick. The only thing that matched the scorn in his voice was the scowl on his face.

"She's here to talk about what we're going to do about Negan," Rick answered. "The two of you have to tell us everything you can that would be helpful. Negan's men have taken Spencer and Scott."

"Who are Spencer and Scott?" Lori asked from her seat on the couch. Carl was perched on the arm of the couch beside her.

"The men you two left unconscious outside the gates," Michonne said, staring at first Carl then Lori. "The man whose shirt you're wearing."

Lori gripped the fabric of the shirt – the physical evidence of her guilt - between her fingers. "Oh..." she said.

Carl continued to stare at Michonne contemptuously; she stared back at him.

"Just tell us everything about the Sanctuary," Rick said. "Tell us where the weapons are, what the guard setup is like, who Negan's most trusted people are. And tell us about Negan himself – how he operates. Can you do that?"

Lori nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I can do that."

"Good," Rick said. "Because we only have a week, maybe less."

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Lori told them as much as she could. And what she couldn't tell, Carl filled in the blanks.

Negan was holed up in a factory about thirty miles away and he had outposts in different areas. So his weaponry, some of his supplies, even some of his people weren't in the same place. This definitely complicated things. Not only did he have more men, but he had created a systematic network. A network that catered only to him.

Lori told them that there was no one at the Sanctuary that Negan treated as a true equal. He was the head honcho and he made that clear through his use of people.

Rick bit his lip as he thought about that.

"How many wives does he have?" Rick asked Lori.

"About twenty now..." she answered. "Why?"

Rick looked over at Michonne. His eyes sparked with the fire of an idea. "What are you thinking?" she asked.

"You thought it was really important for me to bond with my people..." he said.

Michonne nodded. "Yeah?"

"I can't imagine Negan's people are very happy with him right now..."

Realization dawned on Michonne's face. She knew exactly what he was getting at.

"You want to use his numbers against him," she surmised. "Create an uprising among his own people..."

"How would you do that?" Lori asked.

"It wouldn't be easy," Rick admitted. He looked at Michonne. "We'd have to pretend to play along by Negan's rules for a while..."

Lori's face paled. "Wouldn't that mean...I'd have to go back? I mean...the only way he'll compromise is if I go back..."

"No," Rick said quickly, stopping her panicked thoughts in their tracks. "You're not going back to him; I wouldn't let that happen."

"I don't see another option," Lori said. "Negan gets what he wants. Period. If he came and told you that the deal is that I go back with him or it's war...he's not going to settle for anything else..."

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

The four people reached a stalemate in their plans. From how Lori described Negan, none of them could figure out a way that would allow him to be satisfied with them keeping something that he felt belonged to him.

Michonne stepped out onto the porch with Rick to talk while Lori made coffee in the kitchen. They didn't hear Carl follow them out until he was speaking. "It's a good plan," he said.

Rick turned to his son. "What?"

"Turning his people against him. It's a good plan. That's what I was gonna do."

Michonne and Rick shared a glance. "What do you mean, that's what you were gonna do?" Rick asked.

"There are some people there who aren't very happy with Negan," Carl said. "There are a lot of people who dislike him; the difficult part is just convincing them to do something about it. They're afraid. But I figured if I proved myself by taking this plact, that others at the Sanctuary would be more willing to follow me. And I would eventually get them to take the Sanctuary back from Negan."

Michonne and Rick shared another glance. Michonne had to admit she was pretty impressed. It was a well-thought out plan, albeit a little expansive, but well-thought out nonetheless. Especially for a thirteen-year-old kid.

Rick nodded, having mixed feelings about how much his son had grown since they had last seen each other. "The only problem is...how do we buy enough time to implement a strategy like that without turning your mom over to him?"

"I know a way," Carl said. Rick waited for him to speak. After a moment, the teenager nodded towards Michonne. "Trade her for mom."

Michonne's brow furrowed. She took immediate offense to the request. Rick felt the same way. "No," he said immediately, his face screwing up into a mask of confused derision. He wondered how his son could even say something like that. "Besides," Rick stated quickly to dismiss the topic completely; he could feel Michonne bristling beside him. "I doubt that would appease a sociopath like Negan. He wants us to play by his rules. Changing the rules isn't exactly an option."

"There's a chance it wouldn't work," Carl said, not backing down. "But there's also a chance that it would. I know Negan. He'd be...amused. Plus..." Carl glanced Michonne's way. "He'd like her."

"Carl, go back inside," Rick clipped, his voice hard. He had heard enough.

"And don't you need someone on the inside?" Carl asked, his voice rising as he pushed his point further. "You could more easily-"

"Go back inside!" Rick shouted.

"What's going on?" Lori asked, appearing in the doorway.

Carl glowered silently for a moment, then turned on his heel to push past his mother on his way into the house. Lori watched him go questioningly then turned back to look at Rick. "What's going on?"

"Nothing..." Rick said, his hands on his hips. "Go talk to him. Michonne and I need to figure out what we're going to do."

Lori stared at him for a moment more before she disappeared back inside to go check on Carl.

Once the door clicked shut, Michonne and Rick faced each other. The quiet night seemed that much quieter.

"I'm sorry about that..." Rick started.

Michonne shook her head. "It's okay," she said. "I'm more upset that it's a pretty sound plan than the fact that he said it-"

"Stop," Rick said, cutting her off. "We're not even going to consider it."

"Oh, I'm not considering it," Michonne said, thinking of Andre. "I can't leave Andre again."

Rick nodded, glad to hear it. "We'll think of something else."

"What do we tell the rest of the community about Carl and Lori?" Michonne asked. "I don't know if it's fair to keep their being here a secret."

Rick sighed. He wanted to put off thinking about this. He leaned his hips against the railing surrounding the porch and crossed his arms over his chest. "You saw how Glenn and Daryl reacted," he said. "If I tell everyone else, there'll be a witch hunt. They'll want to send them straight back to Negan if they think that'll keep him off of our doorstep."

Michonne smirked. Her eyes trailed the sinewy muscles of his forearm as they presented themselves due to his posture. She remembered the strength of those arms as he held her against his chest earlier that morning in the armory. Unguardedly, she reached forward and gently grasped his arm. "I think you should put a little more trust in the people around you..."

Rick immediately unfolded his arms and took her hand in his, responding to her touch.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Yes," Michonne affirmed. A smile graced her face as their connected hands hung between their two bodies.

A gentle tug from Rick's end caused her to take a couple of steps toward him and she almost forgot that there had been a major change in their lives until the door opened behind them.

Rick and Michonne quickly released their hold of each other's hands and Michonne stepped away.

"Rick, I have to talk to you," Lori said from the doorway.

"Oh...Okay," Rick said. He pushed himself away from the railing and looked down at Michonne. "We'll continue this later, okay?" he said quietly.

Michonne nodded and she had to remind herself that he was merely talking about their plans to counteract against Negan and not anything else.

She watched him disappear into the house and then the door closed again. She was left alone on the porch.

Unbidden to her mind, came questions of how wise it was to actually continue living with Rick. It had been no secret that the absence of Rick's family haunted him everyday. During the time that she had been married to him, they had managed to form a mutual connection and bond, but was it fair of her to stay in Rick's orbit while he tried to figure things out? Maybe she was only confusing him. Maybe he needed his space...

While pondering these things, she almost missed the movement of a lone figure skulking away into the darkness.

Almost.

She picked her sword up from where it had been leaning against the railing and slung it onto her back.

'Who is that and where are they sneaking off to?' she wondered, as she she descended the steps of the porch and decided to find out.

00000000000000000000000000000000

Lori faced Rick in the living room. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she shook her head apologetically. "Carl told me what he said," she admitted. "I'm sorry about that."

"Yeah..." Rick scratched his chin, not quite knowing what to do about Carl and this entire situation. "It's not really me that needs to hear an apology; I think we should make him apologize to Michonne. You know...Personally."

Lori cast her eyes downward.

"What is it?" Rick asked.

"I just don't know if that'll work..." Lori responded. "This has all gotta be so confusing for him...He missed you a lot and...I think he feels like with us finding you that we have the chance to just start over again...Michonne being here kind of complicates that..." She bit her lip and glanced up at Rick carefully.

"...Is that how you feel?" Rick asked.

Lori sighed and her tense shoulders fell. "I don't know. You know? It's all been so sudden. I-I don't know what I feel...I mean I-I...I still love you."

Rick stared at Lori, trying to figure out his own feelings.

"I never stopped loving you. I thought you were dead," Lori continued. "But I know a lot of things have changed. And we can't really just start back where we left off..."

Just a few months ago, Rick would have tunneled through heaven and earth just to hear these words. Now, he still felt like he was living a dream – but it was no longer a solely blissful one; it was filled with uncertainty and confusion. He was happier than words could describe at having found his family, but everything was different.

Lori waited for him to speak, and when he didn't say anything, she smiled dolefully. "...Do you love her?" she asked.

Rick inwardly searched for the truth. He wanted to be as honest as possible. "I do still love you," he said. "I don't know if that'll ever change..."

"...But?" Lori supplied.

"But...I can't deny that I feel something for her as well," Rick confessed.

Lori nodded. She couldn't say she was surprised. "So..." she said, trying to hold back a surprising well of sadness. "What are we going to do about this? Do you want us to move out, or...?"

"No," Rick said immediately. "No," he said again. "I don't want you to move." He knew it may have been selfish, but just for a little while...even if things weren't exactly the same...He wanted to have his family back again. He wanted to pretend those two years that they were separated didn't exist.

Lori nodded again and smiled sadly at the man she now knew to be her ex-husband. It all seemed so regrettable. "Can I kiss you?" she asked... "One last time?"

She walked forward and gingerly placed her hand at Rick's waist. When he didn't pull away, she leaned up and placed a timid kiss against his lips. An uninhibited sigh passed her lips. The familiarity and ghosts of memories that came with the kiss overwhelmed her for a moment. A lump formed in her throat and she pulled back. "...Thank you," she said, before turning and walking out of the room quickly.

Rick touched his lips. Nostalgia bombarded his senses as well. He sighed, wishing there was a simple answer to everything.

0000000000000000000000000

Michonne caught up to the figure just as they reached the gate and she sighed when she saw who it was.

"Daryl," she whispered; the night seemed to call for it. "What are you doing?"

The archer turned around. If he was surprised to see that she had been following him, he didn't show it. "Going after Scott and Spence," he answered.

"Hey! Y'all let me out!" Daryl called to the two men on duty.

Michonne grabbed Daryl's arm, confused as to what he was doing. "No!" she said. "Why are you going out there by yourself? We have to wait!"

"For what? For Scott and Spencer to be killed?" Daryl growled.

"No," Michonne said. "But what are you gonna do? There are hundreds of them; you're just one man, Daryl!"

"Even better. I can get in. Get out. No one'll be the wiser."

"And you just expect me to let you do this?" Michonne asked.

"I don't see how it has anything to do with you," Daryl answered gruffly. "Doesn't really have anything to do with anybody. I ain't riskin' nobody's life but my own."

"Y'all let me out!" Daryl shouted again. The two guards looked at each other in confusion, then they began to open the gates.

Frustration built within Michonne. "Do you even know where to start looking?" she asked.

"No," Daryl said. "But I can figure it out."

"Daryl-!"

"Look!" Daryl said, turning towards her. "This is better for everybody! If I can get Scott and Spencer back on my own, we won't have to deal with all the in-fighting when people realize it's because of Rick's wife and son that this psychopathich son-of-a-bitch has come knocking on our door."

"You can't blame Rick for wanting to keep his family safe," Michonne defended.

"I'm not," Daryl demanded. "But other people will."

"Not if we convince them-"

"We don't have time to convince them!" Daryl argued. "I'm not gonna leave Scott and Spencer's lives on the line while everyone tries to navigate some kinda apocalyptic diplomacy. Nah. I'm going."

He pulled his bike away from the gate, where it was leaning, and threw his leg over the seat. He revved the engine and Michonne moved into action. She threw her leg over the seat behind him.

"What are you doing?" Daryl asked, turning to look at her.

"I'm not letting you go out there alone," Michonne said. "No matter what, you need some kind of backup."

"I'm not takin' you out there!" Daryl said. "Rick would kill me!"

"I guess we're staying here then," Michonne said. "And we can come up with a plan, gather a few more men, and go out tomorrow to look for them."

Daryl rolled his eyes, seeing what she was doing. She was betting on him not going if she threatened to go as well.

Little did Michonne know, she underestimated his stubbornness.

Daryl pulled his helmet over his head and revved his engine again. "Stay on or get off," he said. "It doesn't bother me; I'm going after them."

Michonne didn't respond but she didn't move from her seat either.

"Fine," Daryl said.

The motorcycle roared to life and they shot past the boundaries of the ASZ.

'Shit,' Michonne thought, as wind whipped against her face. She turned back to stare at the closing gates of the Alexandria Safe Zone as they disappeared into the distance. Her thoughts went to Rick and Andre and she wished she hadn't been so hasty to jump on the back of the motorcycle of a stubborn archer with a savior complex.

\- Smh. Daryl Daryl Daryl...Wonder if they'll catch up to Negan's men...and what will happen if they do? Dun dun dun. Trying to keep my updates at least semi-regular; another update should be out by next week if not earlier.

Find me on P atreon (Lyra Verse) and donate to the 24/7 writing cause. Thanks! -


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22: Highway Meeting

"Daryl! Turn around!"

The wind whipped Michonne's skin and she tried to keep a tight hold on Daryl's waist. The roar of the engine filled the night as they sped on.

Daryl either didn't hear her over the noise of his motorcycle or he simply ignored her. Whichever one it was, it caused Michonne to become more determined to _make_ him hear her.

"Daryl!"

Finally, Daryl skidded to a stop. He took off his helmet and turned toward her.

"What?! You're the one who got on my bike!"

"And I'm getting off," Michonne said, stepping off of the bike.

An owl hooted somewhere in the distance of the trees and darkness descended over the area. "Let's wait one more day," Michonne implored Daryl one more time. "We'll find Scott and Spencer; I promise."

For a moment, Michonne thought she had gotten through to him. But determination settled on his shoulders. "I'm findin' em tonight." Michonne's hopes deflated. "So you comin' or goin'?"

"I'm going back," Michonne decided. "I'll send backup after you."

"You ain't gotta do that."

"Yes, I do."

Daryl sighed and held his helmet out to Michonne. "Here," he said. "Get on. I'll take you back."

Michonne was about to pull the helmet onto her head and climb back onto the motorcycle when a voice came out of the darkness.

"Well, isn't that sweet?"

Michonne and Daryl looked towards the voice to see a grey-haired man with a harsh face and a mustache step out from between the trees. "That's some inspiring camraderie," the man continued.

Michonne felt Daryl tense beside her. She knew that he was preparing to fight. Michonne's own hand went to the hilt of the sword on her back.

"Uh uh," the man said, his voice a match for his face – gruff and harsh. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. I'm packing more heat." He raised his arms and more men stepped out of the surrounding trees. Michonne heard noises behind her so she knew they were appearing on the other side of the street as well. They were surrounded and outnumbered.

Resigning herself to this fact, Michonne dropped her hand from her sword.

"Good girl," the man praised. "Now let's see if we can't have a nice chat, huh?"

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

The next morning, Rick opened his eyes and he realized Michonne was missing from his side. He then remembered why. Lori was back. Lori and Carl. He had found his family and Michonne was sleeping in the room down the hall.

He got up and got ready for the day quickly. After forming a plan with everyone, they needed to start putting it into action quickly. The sooner they handled the Saviors, the better.

Rick made his way downstairs and was immediately greeted with the aroma of bacon and warm bread. He was smelling a full breakfast. The scent caused him to have a little more jaunt in his step as he finished making his way down the stairs. When he rounded the corner and saw Lori bending down to pull biscuits from the oven, he was momentarily thrust back to pre-apocalyptic days.

"You've gotten better at making pancakes, I hope," he joked.

Lori turned at the sound of his voice and smiled. "No pancakes today," she said. "And no...I can't say I've gotten better at it." She chuckled as she sat the tray of biscuits onto the countertop.

Rick looked at the amount and array of food that was sitting out and his eyebrows rose. The bacon and eggs were piled high and the biscuits were many. "Are you planning on feeding the whole community?" he asked. He silently wondered how much of their monthly supplies she had used on this one breakfast alone.

"No," Lori said, chuckling again. "I just...couldn't really sleep last night so I got up early and maybe went a little crazy." Her smile became sad. "I really missed cooking for you and Carl...you know?"

Lori glanced up at Rick; he gave her an understanding smile.

"And of course," Lori continued quickly. "There's enough here for Michonne as well. Is she coming down to eat with us?"

"I'm sure she will," Rick replied, surprised that she wasn't already down there. She usually beat him waking up.

"Great," Lori said. "I'll go get Carl."

000000000000000000000000000000000000000

It gave Michonne some reassurance that she could hear Daryl shuffling along beside her.

The men had blindfolded the two of them and their hands were tied behind their backs. Their weapons were taken and in someone else's hands; they were completely defenseless. They had been walking for a while and – though she was trying to stay aware – Michonne was losing track of just how long they had been walking. She assumed they were about ten miles from where they started.

"Here we are." Michonne was stopped and she heard Daryl's footsteps stop as well. Her heart pounded and her mind worked on ways to survive this situation. She definitely didn't plan on dying here. She had to get back to Andre.

The blindfold was pulled from her eyes and she saw the first light of early morning. She blinked as her eyes readjusted after the darkness. Daryl's blindfold was pulled from his eyes as well and the two of them looked around them.

They were still on the road, surrounded by trees; there were just more men. Michonne's eyes scanned the group until they landed on two men kneeling in the middle of the road. As if they had rehearsed, the first line of the Saviors parted to give her a clearer picture.

It was Scott and Spencer on their knees in between the parted men. They were bruised and bloodied but otherwise fine.

Michonne gritted her teeth; she had a feeling things wouldn't stay fine.

The sound of an engine broke the morning quiet and an RV soon approached from around a bend in the road. It stopped – parking horizontally across the road – behind the grouping of men and Michonne waited for the driver to appear. She figured that's who she would have to thank for this whole production.

But the driver-side door opened and a scrawny man with blonde hair stepped out to come around the RV.

Michonne knew immediately that that man wasn't the leader.

The blonde driver moved towards the middle of the RV and opened the door. A man with salt-and-pepper scruff and a leather jacket stepped from the vehicle. A bat wrapped in barbed wire was hoisted over his shoulder. There was a subtle change in everyone gathered.

This was the leader.

Michonne raised her chin. This was the first time she was laying eyes on Negan. The wide smile on his face and joyful gleam in his eye let her know that she should continuously keep her guard up around him.

"Well, well, well," Negan said. His tongue darted out to lick his lips and Michonne couldn't help but to feel like a sheep brought before a hungry wolf. "If it isn't the best fuckin' day of my entire life." His eyes landed on Michonne. "You're Rick's woman, aren't you?"

Michonne's stomach locked in dread.

000000000000000000000000000000000000

When Rick finished his breakfast and Michonne still hadn't come down, he grew worried that she may not be feeling well. "I'm going to go check on Michonne," he said, standing up from his spot at the kitchen island.

"Can I go look around?" Carl asked, before Rick could leave completely.

"Go look around the community?" Rick asked Carl to clarify.

"Yeah."

Rick and Lori shared a glance. "I'm not sure if that's a good idea," Rick said, thinking about the fact that the residents of the ASZ didn't know who he was yet and didn't know that he came from the Saviors' camp.

"I'll be careful," Carl replied.

Rick was about to respond when a knock sounded on the door. "Wait right here," he said to Lori and Carl.

He went to answer the door and found one of the men who regularly stood on guard duty on the other side. "Yes?" he asked.

"Hey," he said. "It's the end of my shift, and I'm just coming to let you know that Daryl and Michonne left a while ago and they're not back yet. I wasn't sure if this was something you knew about-"

The young man didn't have time to finish his statement before Rick cut him off. "Daryl and Michonne _left_?" he asked, fully bewildered and immediately upset. "Where did they go?!"

"I don't know," the young man said, slightly stammering now due to Rick's reaction. He was eager to give him all of the information he could so that he wouldn't risk Rick's anger. "I think I heard something about them going to look for Scott and Spencer."

"And you're just now telling me this?" Rick asked. He hurriedly moved from the doorway to find his gun belt. The young man was left at the door, unsure whether to follow him.

"What's going on?" Lori asked; she and Carl came out of the kitchen at the sound of Rick's raised voice.

"Michonne and Daryl went to go find Scott and Spencer," Rick said, rushing upstairs to his bedroom.

He tried not to curse and he tried to keep his feelings under control. He was upset at Michonne. He was legitimately angry at her. He didn't understand why she would go out looking for Scott and Spencer after he said they would work on a plan together. He thought she had been of the same mind as him. If she wanted to immediately follow Scott and Spencer's trail, she could have told him and he would have sent more men with her and probably gone along as well.

"What can I do to help?" Lori asked after him.

"Stay here," Rick growled.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000

Negan stood in front of Michonne and stared at her with a devious grin on his lips. Michonne scowled and kept her eyes on his. "This is such a goddamn stroke o' luck that I'm not quite sure what to do with it, to be acutely fuckin' honest," Negan said. "Rick's pussy just fell right into my hands."

Michonne's lips twisted in disgust.

Her reaction seemed to amuse Negan even more. He took his bat off of his shoulders and held it close to Michonne's face. She instinctively pulled away from it but kept her eyes on the man who held it.

"Don't touch her," Daryl warned.

Negan ignored him.

"Do you like her?" Negan asked Michonne. He pulled the bat away from her face and held it in front of himself as if he was displaying a top-of-the-line product. "Her name's Lucille. I _would_ say she's pleased to meet you, but I'd be lying. She can get pretty jealous. And she's a bitch when she's jealous."

Michonne's expression stayed unamused and unimpressed. Whatever this act was that Negan had going, she wasn't a fan of it. If he was pretending to be a psychopath, he'd have to try another game. She could tell he had a sharp mind, and that in and of itself was pretty intimidating.

"Now, as you know..." Negan continued. "Your husband has taken something of mine."

"She wasn't taken," Michonne responded. "Your wife came to us; she asked to stay."

"Even so," Negan said, his smile never leaving his lips. "We should have met – as leaders – to have a civil discussiona about coveting another man's things."

Michonne scowled. "She's a woman," Michonne said. "She's not your property."

"Of course not!" Negan said. He laughed and shook his head. "No, no, no, no. Of course she's not my property. Did I sound like a misogynistic fuck just now?" He turned to his men for answers. "Did I?" he asked. "Be honest. I won't kill you for it."

"You did."

"Yeah, you did."

"A little bit."

A chorus of affirmations was heard from the group of Saviors. "Well, shit..." Negan said. He turned back to Michonne. "I apologize." A wide grin slid across his face. It didn't reassure Michonne in the slightest. "I just didn't like waking up to find my wife gone," he continued. "You understand."

"Well, as I understand it..." Michonne said. "You have quite a few wives. So I'm sure you won't be lonely."

Negan chuckled at her reply. He didn't respond. He moved on to the next order of business.

"Well, I'm sure you've noticed your two friends back here," he said, gesturing toward Scott and Spencer. "Want to know why they're here?"

"I'm sure you're going to tell us."

"As you know," Negan started. At this point, Michonne was sure he was a man who loved to hear himself talk. "I gave your husband a week to give me back my wife and everything in his community," Negan continued. "But even if he does that, I gotta make an example out of somebody." He walked towards Scott and Spencer. Spencer shrank away from him; Scott kept his eyes downcast. "I was in the middle of choosing who to kill when my men brought news that they had two more of you."

"I like the looks of him," Negan said, pointing at Scott. "So I thought I might spare him. But I kind of pity this one..." he said, pointing at Spencer. "So I was wondering if I should let him continue life in his pitiful fucking skin for a few more days. But then – a man like him...he'll end up dead in a few months anyway so my mercy would just be going to waste...Hmm..." He looked at Michonne and Daryl. "You see my fuckin' quandary."

" _Or..._ " He walked back towards the two new ASZers in his midst. "Since there's new blood here, maybe I'll choose him." He stopped in front of Daryl and the archer stared back at him unflinchingly.

Michonne's stomach twisted. None of those choices were ideal.

"You're not an option," Negan said to Michonne, giving her another one of his psychotically charming grins. "You're much too pretty to have your brain matter decorating the roadside."

"Oh God," Spencer moaned weakly from where he knelt on his knees. He looked like he was about to faint.

"But I'll tell you what..." Negan continued to Michonne, ignoring Spencer's weak moans. "I'll let you help me decide. Which one of these men do you care least about?"

When Michonne didn't respond, Negan spoke again. "Oh, come on. I won't kill them immediately. They'll have a week to make peace with themselves and whichever fuckin' god they pray to. I won't kill 'im 'till I can show Rick my handiwork."

Michonne scowled, searching for a way out of this.

"You can kill me," Daryl said. "Let everyone else go."

Negan stepped away from Michonne and stepped toward Daryl once again. "Oh, look. We got ourselves a fucking saint. But it's not up to you. It's up to the lady." He looked over at Michonne. "Will he do?" he asked. "It doesn't matter one way or the other to me."

"No," Michonne said. "You're not killing any of them."

Negan's eyebrows raised and he lifted Lucille onto his shoulder again. "Oh? Why is that?"

"The reason we're out here alone...is because I came to make a deal with you."

Amused interest colored Negan's face. "A deal?" he asked. "And what deal is that?"

Michonne spoke before she lost her nerve. "You let Lori stay at the ASZ, and I go with you..."

Daryl stared at Michonne questioningly. For a moment, Negan looked surprised then a wide smile split his lips. "This Rick's idea?" Negan asked suspiciously. "He thinks a wife swap will make me happy?"

"Rick knows nothing about this," Michonne said. "It's my idea."

"What are you doin'?" Daryl growled under his breath.

Michonne hoped he wouldn't say anything else to alert Negan to the fact that they were flying blind and she hoped he wouldn't work against the plan she was forming...whatever plan that was.

Negan stared at her closely for a few seconds more, seemingly trying to work out if she was telling the truth or not. "So Rick has no idea his wife came to...make a deal...with me..." he said. "I can't imagine he'd be too happy about this." He stepped closer to Michonne and she tried not to tense too visibly. "Now why, exactly, would you – or _he_ – be willing to go to such an extent just to protect one woman?"

Michonne didn't know what Negan had found out about Lori during the year or so that she was his wife, but it was clear he wasn't aware of the relationship Lori and Rick shared. Michonne thought it best that she keep it that way.

"She's got a kid," Michonne said. She thought of her own son but quickly pushed the thought aside to stay clear-headed.

"So you're just being a good samaritan..." Negan taunted. Michonne kept her expression unreadable while Negan took a step back. He looked her over and seemed to consider it.

He loosely held his bat in his hand and swung it in a circular motion as he began to whistle while thinking over the proposal. "I'm not gonna lie..." he said. "This is tempting if only to see the look on Rick's face...But there's just one thing you seem to be forgetting..."

He paused and pointed his bat at Michonne's gut. "You don't have any fucking leverage."

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"Glenn, Maggie, Sasha, Aaron...You're coming with me."

Lori watched, worried, as Rick gathered those four people to come along on his sudden rescue mission. They, along with Jesus, Ezekiel, and Matthew had been corraled into Rick's living room.

"You need more people than that, don't you?" Lori asked with wide eyes. She knew how many men Negan had and two women and slightly smaller men such as Aaron and Glenn didn't seem like a very formidable group against the Saviors.

"I'll go too, Dad," Carl piped up.

"No," Rick said. "I'm only taking a small group because we can't risk having everyone gone should some of Negan's men choose to attack while we're out."

Lori's eyes widened even further at that. "You think that's a possibility?" she asked.

"It is," Rick answered.

"I can help you," Carl continued to insist. "I know what to expect from him."

"You're not going, Carl," Lori inserted.

"Do we have any kind of plan of what we're going to do when we catch up to them?" Glenn asked.

"We're gonna bring grenades," Rick said, leaving Carl for Lori to handle. "Lots of 'em. Our one and only plan is to bring Michonne and the others back. That's it."

"You sure you don't want us to come?" Ezekiel asked, stepping forward. "I've already lost the Kingdom; I won't lose Michonne too."

Rick met Ezekiel's eyes with sincere determination. "I'll bring her back," he stated. Ezekiel nodded. "Can you take care of the ASZ while I'm gone?" Ezekiel nodded once again and Rick nodded back. Feeling impatient, he looked around the room. He wished he had a more secure plan; he wished he could reassure his people more, but as of now...he just needed to catch up to Michonne. "Are we ready?" he asked.

"Ready," Maggie responded. Sasha, Glenn, and Aaron gave their affirmations as well.

"Ready."

Rick turned around to see Carl at his elbow. He checked his gun for ammo and stuck it into the back of his pants. "I told you you weren't going," Rick said to his son.

"I've spent a lot of time studying Negan," Carl said, meeting his father's eyes with serious intent. "It's stupid that Daryl and that woman left, and I think it's stupid that you're following after them. But I know I can't talk you out of it." He squinted up at Rick. "I thought you were dead for two years. I'm not gonna risk losing you again. I'm going."

Rick was speechless. As a father, he didn't want his son in danger but he could see that Carl was a different person than the little boy he knew before. He glanced over Carl's head at Lori before finally giving in. "Fine..." he said. "But you stay with me. Understand?"

Carl nodded and they were finally ready. Rick resolved himself to bring Michonne back no matter what. "Let's go," he stated.

00000000000000000000000000000

"See, I already have you," Negan continued smugly. "You're tied up; I'm not. I have men; you don't. So why should I make a deal when there's nothing for me to gain?"

"You're right..." Michonne said. "You've already got me. But why take me as a prisoner when you can have me as a wife?"

Negan laughed, taken aback by Michonne's question.

Michonne tried to keep her skin from crawling.

Negan's smile turned cold. "Now, see..." he said. "I feel like you're trying to pull one over on me."

"Scenario one..." Negan ticked off. "Rick sent you with some bullshit story so that you can try to infiltrate my camp..." He tapped Lucille against the asphalt street behind him as he paced and spoke his thoughts aloud. "Scenario two...You hate Rick and you've just been looking for a reason to separate yourself from him and what better reason than to be wife of..." He spread his arms wide and smiled. "...One of the greatest men alive."

Michonne had to work to keep from rolling her eyes.

"In which case," Negan continued. "I'd just be giving you what you want and not hurting Rick at all in the process...and why would I want to do that?"

"Scenario three... _Rick_ hates _you_ and he doesn't care one way or the other that you're here offering yourself to me. Which...again, gives you no worth in my eyes."

"She was planning on going back, boss." The grey-haired man who first captured them spoke.

"Huh?" Negan asked, turning to him.

"She was planning on going back," the man repeated. "I don't think it was her plan to make this deal with you at all."

Negan looked back at Michonne and she felt her stomach drop. "Interesting," he said. He turned back to the man who spoke. "So you think she's just trying to save her own hide?"

"And all these other useless pricks," the man said. "Yeah."

Michonne could practically see the wheels that had begun to turn in Negan's mind. "Interesting..." he said again. He let his eyes slide down Michonne's form and again she had to fight a feeling of disgust. "I definitely wouldn't mind makin' you one of mine..." Negan said with a Chesire grin. "I just gotta wonder..." Negan started. He didn't finish his thought.

He didn't have to. Michonne knew he was thinking of the scenario that would hurt Rick the most. If Rick cared about her, Rick wouldn't want Negan to have her and that would make the deal worthwhile in Negan's eyes. Because he would be making Rick miserable. But, knowing Negan, he was also mulling over the consequences of agreeing to a deal that wasn't necessarily along the line of terms he had already set. As a leader who set rules and expected for them to be followed, it was probably important to him that things go exactly the way he wanted. A trade wasn't what he had asked for; he had asked for one of his wives to be returned or there would be war.

"I know!" Negan suddenly said, his expression lighting up with an idea. "Let's go see how Rick feels about this!"

0000000000000000000000

Before Michonne knew it, she was blindfolded once again. Her hands remained tied behind her back and she felt herself being led into the RV.

She was pushed onto a seat next to who she assumed was Spencer due to the sniffles she heard and the shivering she felt. "Don't worry," she whispered under her breath. "I'll get us out of this."

She wasn't sure if he heard her; he didn't make any indication that he did. And his shivering continued.

She wasn't sure where Daryl and Scott were sitting. But she assumed they were on the RV with her.

They were traveling for only a few minutes when Michonne felt them come to a stop. She couldn't help but to feel confused for a moment because she knew they shouldn't have reached the ASZ so soon.

"Well, look. At. This..." Negan's voice came from somewhere in the front of the RV. Then it was followed by his sly chuckle. Michonne immediately felt uneasy. "This may be worth it after all..." Negan continued.

Someone grabbed Michonne's elbow roughly. She immediately and instinctively tried to jerk away.

"Uh uh! Don't do that!" a rough voice warned in her ear. She felt what she perceived to be a gun press into her side. She stilled.

"Bring her up here," Negan instructed.

Michonne felt the rough-voiced man's grip tighten as she was pushed forward. She gritted her teeth, vowing to kill this man – whoever it was – later. She wasn't sure where she was being taken until she could practically smell the hairspray and leather.

She was right next to Negan.

"Look at this, Sweetheart..." Michonne felt the blindfold get pulled from over her eyes before she was assaulted with the privilege of vision once again.

Michonne immediately became aware of the fact that she was looking through the front glass of the RV. And through that glass, she could see Rick, Sasha, Maggie, and Glenn blocking the street directly in front of them. Sasha was sitting out of the window of the truck they were in with her rifle aimed and Rick stood in front of the truck with his gun held at his side.

"I think he came to save you." Michonne could practically hear the malicious glee in his voice. "Isn't that sweet?"

\- Find Lyra Verse on P atreon. :D -


	23. Chapter 23

\- Thank you Lalla Gulled for donating to me on P atreon! This update is for you! I'm going to start posting my original novel soon. I hope my patrons enjoy it! And for the 8 of you donating to me, I've visited your pages and I see that most of you are new members, which means you signed up to the site just to donate to me. Thanks thanks thanks so much. I'll definitely try to continue to think of perks for you. If you have any suggestions, let me know.

This update is kind of short. :( Ugh. But I already have my next chapter outlined so...:) -

Chapter 23: Broken Deal

Michonne was not happy to see Rick.

She was worried.

Negan had with him over thirty men. Rick had Glenn, Maggie, and Sasha.

"Looks like we may be able to work something out," Negan purred in Michonne's ear. She fought down a horrible bile that rose in her throat. "Open the door," Negan commanded of his men. On his word, the door of the RV was readily thrown open. "Come on," Negan said, gripping her arm. "Let's go greet hubby."

00000000000000000000000000000000000000

Rick felt a rush of emotions upon seeing Michonne being brought down the steps of the RV: happiness that he had actually caught up to her, anger that she was tied up, and fear that something was going to happen to her. She was completely at Negan's mercy.

Rick's lips whitened due to the pressure he put on them to keep his mouth shut and his face stoic. "Where's Daryl?" Rick asked. "Spencer. Scott." He mentally tried to figure out the best course of action to get his people back safe and sound and get rid of the threat of the Saviors once and for all.

"In the RV," Negan answered. "None of 'em the worse for wear. I'm treatin' 'em fuckin' dandy." He laid his arm over Michonne's shoulders and pulled her to his side. "Ain't I, sweetheart?"

Michonne trembled with hate and Rick gripped the handle of his Colt.

The slight movement didn't go unheeded by Negan. He smirked and played with the end of Michonne's dreads, brushing her breast ever so slightly.

"You know why I'm here," Rick said, the anger in his voice barely restrained. It took everything in him not to open fire and shoot Negan straight between the eyes right then and there. He had to remind himself that that was suicide. For him and his people. They were wildly outnumbered. "I want my people."

"Oh, but your people came to me," Negan teased, an annoying smile gracing his face.

Rick kept his eyes trained on Negan. He wished he could silently communicate to Michonne that she would be okay – that he wasn't going to leave until she was on her way back to the ASZ with him. He remembered how she had saved him when he had been at the mercy of Abraham and his goons; it was his turn to return the favor.

"Your wife here made me a very tempting deal..." Negan continued to tease.

Rick glanced over at Michonne, wanting to know what the deal was. But he was sure Negan was going to tell him. He kept his mouth shut.

"See, she thinks it would be better for everyone..." He continued to stroke her dreads; Michonne pulled away. "If you just keep Lori...and she comes back to The Sanctuary with me."

Everything in Rick rebelled against that suggestion. He tried to keep the shock from coloring his face when he looked at Michonne again. He thought they had agreed that this wasn't even a consideration.

Rick gave up on trying to appear nonchalant. "That's not going to happen," he said. "Give me my people or you won't make it out of here alive."

"Oh, don't be stupid, Rick. You can't kill me without killing yourself in the process." He spread his arms wide. "I have more men."

"But you would be dead," Rick said, trying to hold onto his rationale even though he knew it wasn't the smartest move. He just wanted Michonne back. "That's all that matters."

Michonne saw the determination in Rick's face. She knew he was serious. 'He's not going to leave here unless I'm coming with him,' she realized. The thought touched her, but it also worried her. She could practically feel the glee emanating off of Negan. Just as Michonne was quickly finding out how important it was to Rick that she come back with him, so was Negan.

"Do the people with you feel that way?" Negan asked, a chuckle in his voice.

Sasha, who was hanging out of the window with her rifle set up and aimed, decided to answer the question on Rick's behalf. "We'll take you out no matter what it takes," she stated firmly. Her sights were set squarely on Negan.

Rick shrugged, clearly saying, 'Well that's that'. "She never misses," he added.

Negan chuckled, but he couldn't help but to feel uncomfortable with a sniper's target aimed directly at his head. He wondered if his own two snipers were fast enough to shoot her before she could shoot him. He didn't want to risk it.

"Dwight," he called to one of his men. Without needing a full order, a scrawny blonde man stepped from the ranks of the others and raised his bow and arrow – aiming it directly at Michonne. "You kill me," Negan finished. "And Michonne dies."

"In fact!" Negan shouted to the rest of his men. "If I die, make sure Michonne is your number one target! Don't let her leave here alive!"

Rick's stomach sank to the ground.

When Negan saw Rick's physical discomfort, he felt a thrill right down to his bones. It was clear that Rick obviously cared for this woman...and he could use that to his advantage.

Someone stepped down from the truck and Michonne realized there was someone she had intially overlooked on her first glance of Rick's party. Carl was with him.

The young boy went to stand beside Rick.

"He doesn't care about her," Carl said.

"Carl!" Negan welcomed, throwing his arms wide. The surprise in his voice told Michonne that he hadn't seen the boy either. "Son! I've missed you! How've you been?"

Carl ignored Negan's faux jovial welcome and continued what he was saying. "He just doesn't want to look weak to his people by letting you take her."

Surprised to see Carl come from the truck, Rick turned to him. "Get back in there," he said. He didn't want to have to worry about his son on top of his wife and the rest of the members of his group. As he was starting to expect by now, Carl ignored him.

Michonne shrugged Negan's arm off of her shoulder once again. She watched Rick carefully, prepared to act with whatever call he made. If he made a move of hostility in order to bring her back no matter what, she would fight to get to him. If he strategically decided that it was the wiser thing to do to leave her with Negan for the time being, she would keep a cool head and do what she could to help the ASZ from her place of capture.

"You know, Carl," Negan taunted. "I never pegged you to be such a Mama's boy. I kinda get why _she_ left me, but you..." Negan put his hand over his heart, pretending as if he were truly hurt. "I thought we understood each other."

He was only met with a cold stare from Carl.

Negan chuckled. "Crazy little son-of-a-bitch, isn't he?" he said quietly to Michonne.

"Alright, Carl," Negan suddenly said, speaking loudly. He stepped away from Michonne and propped Lucille over his shoulder. "I'll call your bluff." Before anyone could wonder what he was talking about, he pulled a handgun from the waistband of his pants and pointed it at Michonne's head.

She visibly tensed and Rick immediately raised his own weapon.

Rick realized his mistake when a 'gotcha' grin washed over Negan's face.

"Looks like he cares about her quite a bit," Negan said. "So I'm thinkin'...I should probably take her up on her offer. A wife for a wife. How 'bout that, Rick? That's fair, isn't it?"

With effort, Rick had to keep a curse from passing his lips.

"I think it's very fair," Negan continued to posture, his gun still pointed at Michonne's head. "Hell, we could even be allies. We nip any misunderstandings in the bud right here, right now with this trade. Then you and your people just work for me...give me supplies every month. And voila. Hakuna ma-fuckin'-tata."

A tense silence followed Negan's words as Rick weighed his options. It didn't even cross his mind to give Negan wanted he wanted. His only consideration was how to save Michonne with the least amount of damage to his people.

"Tick tock...I'm waiting, Rick..." Negan teased.

Rick turned slightly over his shoulder, ready to – with a glance – let Sasha know to take Negan out.

But before he could do so, the engine of the RV revved to life and the vehicle lurched and came barreling forward. A still-bound Daryl was at the wheel.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Michonne heard the engine rev and didn't hesitate to bound out of the way. Neither did Negan. She went one way and he went the other. And the few Saviors' that had been in front of the vehicle scattered in different directions as well.

Apparently, before Negan's taunting, he had forgotten to tell more than three Saviors to stay on the RV to watch the imprisoned Spencer, Scott, and Daryl. So Daryl and the other two – weak and bound as they were – had managed to muster up their will of survival and overtake the few Saviors that stayed onboard.

"Out! Out! Get out of the truck now!" Rick yelled to Glenn, Maggie, and Sasha. They all piled out of the vehicle and ran off to the sides of the road just as the RV came crashing indirectly into the other vehicle. It scraped the side of the truck and kept going, only stopping a few feet past.

Rick, Michonne, and the rest of the group knew what they had to do. They had to get on that RV.

Negan was the first Savior to recover from his surprise and he immediately turned his gun on Michonne, who had already heaved herself to her feet and started to run towards the RV with her hands tied behind her back.

Rick, who had already grabbed Carl's vest and was running with him, noticed Negan's line of fire and hurriedly ran to meet Michonne – tackling her to the ground. The sound of Negan's gunshot rang out and Rick wasn't sure where the bullet ended up, but he could swear that he felt the heat of it graze his shoulder. Carl turned and quickly took a shot at Negan – he missed – before the three of them where up and running towards the RV again.

Glenn, Sasha, and Maggie were making their own dash towards the temporary safehaven. Maggie made it to the door of the RV first, propelled and encouraged by Glenn who was worried about her and the safety of their unborn child. She was halfway up the steps when an arrow went through Glenn's leg, causing him to fall onto the ground.

"Glenn!" she shouted, stopping in her tracks.

"Go!" Glenn shouted back. "Keep going!"

Sasha, who was right behind Glenn, helped him to his feet. She felt like they were about to get shot any minute as more and more gunfire began to ring out as the Saviors regained their footing.

Some of the gunfire was from Rick and Carl who fired back whenever they could.

And a lot of the gunfire was wild, blind firing due to heightened excitement and confusion. Which was helpful to Rick's small group from the ASZ since they were able to all get onto the RV with only Glenn's wounded leg as a battle scar among them.

Daryl got out of the driver's seat and Sasha took the wheel. And then they were off. The ringing sound of bullets hitting the RV faded and then ended.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Negan was pissed.

"Do none of you know how to aim at a fucking tire?!" he shouted at his men. "GOD – DAMNIT!"

His men stayed silent, knowing it was better for them not to say anything at all.

As far as he knew he had had a winning hand and now it had been snatched away.

"That's okay," he suddenly said as his men looked on from the sidelines. "Thaaat's~ okay. We've got him now." He was mostly talking to himself and Lucille. "We know his weaknesses. So what he stole my wife, one of my favorite kids, and now my fuckin' RV. So what. We'll see him again next week. And we know just how to hurt him – yes, we do."

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

After checking on Carl, Glenn and Maggie, Rick went to talk to Michonne. She had since gotten her hands untied and was sitting somewhat alone, away from Sasha and Daryl who were in the driver's and passenger seat respectively. She was holding her sword, which had thankfully been left on the RV.

Stopping when he reached her, he placed his hand on her shoulder gently. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," Michonne said.

They were silent. Michonne could tell that something was bothering Rick. "Thanks for coming," she offered.

"Of course I would," Rick said. They were silent again until Rick moved away to the front of the RV.

'Something's definitely bothering him,' Michonne thought. She decided they'd talk about it when they got back home.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

They arrived back at the ASZ without much fanfare. Hardly anyone knew that they had been gone. Lori was waiting at the front of town for them and she rushed to them when they got back. When she saw that everyone was safe – most importantly Rick and Carl – she breathed a sigh of relief. When Scott and Spencer stepped from the RV, she avoided their eyes.

"How'd it go?" she asked Rick when he stepped off the bus. "I'm assuming well enough since everyone's alive."

"Well enough," Rick affirmed, glancing at Glenn. He was making his way to the infirmary with Maggie because he had an arrow in his leg so things definitely could have gone better.

Michonne stepped off of the RV behind Rick. She passed him without saying anything.

"Everything okay?" Lori asked, noticing the odd atmosphere.

"Yeah, everything's fine," Rick said. "Can you excuse me for a minute?"

"Yeah."

He followed after Michonne, determined to talk to her after their ordeal. She seemed to have the same thought because she led him straight to their home and only stopped when they reached the porch and faced each other.

Michonne figured she didn't need to mince words. She sensed that Rick might be a little upset with her and she didn't have to guess why. "It wasn't my plan to go running off," she said. Rick stayed quiet and let her continue to explain. "I just saw Daryl leaving, tried to stop him, and it ended up backfiring."

"What about the deal you made?" Rick asked. The thought of Negan gloating about making her his wife made him sick. "I thought we both decided that plan was out of the question."

"At the time," Michonne said. "I thought it was what was best for the ASZ-"

"No." Rick cut her off. "No. That can never happen. If I wouldn't have gotten there in time..." It made him shudder to think of it.

Again touched by his visible concern for her, Michonne placed a reassuring touch on Rick's arm.

Rick placed his hand over hers, just glad to feel her touch. Glad to have her beside him. It scared him how close he had come to losing her today.

Not dwelling on much at all except that feeling, he wrapped his hand around hers and pulled her closer.

It seemed right for him to kiss her in that moment, so he did. He opened his body up towards her, pulled her against his chest, and placed his lips against hers.

Michonne accepted his kiss readily. She had been determined to survive somehow and make it back to her son no matter what happened with Negan and the Saviors, but she was relieved that Rick had come for her. She was glad to be back home. At the ASZ.

Rick's tongue massaged hers and his fingers massaged the skin at her waist. "I was afraid today," Rick whispered when they broke apart for a second.

"I was too," Michonne admitted.

He drew her into another kiss.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000

Lori stopped short when she saw the display on the front porch. She had gotten a feeling of how much Rick actually cared about Michonne when she went missing, but to see the husband she had known for years making out with another woman hit her like a sucker punch to the gut. She was surprised by how much she was affected by it.

Frozen in place by her own shock, it took her a moment to remember that Carl was right beside her.

She looked over at him just in time to see him shake his head and turn on his heels to stalk away.

"Carl!" she whispered, her voice following him unheeded and possibly unheard.

She turned back to see Rick and Michonne still kissing before she followed Carl's lead. She couldn't face the two of them immediately after seeing this and still act normally. She just couldn't.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"Come upstairs with me," Rick suggested. He had come so close to losing her that it made him realize how he didn't want to waste a single day not getting to know her even more. Not having her in his bed.

"No," Michonne said gently. She pulled away, remembering why they had initially been keeping their distance in the first place. "We don't live alone anymore, remember?"

"Right," Rick said with a sigh. He definitely remembered the wife and child he had mourned continuously for two whole years.

"I'm glad you came for me," Michonne said, not wanting Rick to think too much about the domestic complication of their lives at the moment.

"Did you think I wouldn't?" he asked.

Michonne smiled. "I knew you would come. I just didn't know you would come so soon."

"Of course I would," Rick said, mimicking his words in the RV. "You've saved me a million times over – sometimes from myself. It was the least I could do."

Michonne saw his cheeks blush even though it was now pretty dark. She smiled at his modesty, thinking it endearing.

"I'm gonna go check on Andre," Michonne said quickly, before she was tempted to take Rick up on his offer to go upstairs.

"Okay," Rick said. "We'll talk about what to do about Negan when you get back," Rick said. He looked out over the community, his eyes and mind actively working. "I think he's going to try to use you to get to me..."

Michonne nodded. That definitely sounded like the kind of man he was. "I know," she said. They settled on the agreement to talk and Michonne made her way down the stairs of the porch to go find Andre.


	24. Chapter 24

\- Blacklitchick, I'm gonna dedicate this update to you! :D I'm very humbled and flattered to have such a skilled writer such as yourself supporting me. Lots of love and thank you, thank you, thank you! -

Chapter 24: Home

Rick listened to the shower running, relieved to know that Michonne was safely back home. She had finished checking on Andre and was getting ready for bed.

Rick sat down and took his boots off, thinking that he needed to go see about Andre the next day as well. He didn't trust that Mike still wasn't trying to pull something with Andre's custody.

The door to his house opened, and he swiveled around to see Lori and Carl coming through the doorway. Carl stalked by without so much as a word and made his way upstairs. Lori stopped and looked after him.

"What's wrong with him?" Rick asked.

"He's just getting used to everything..." Lori replied. She looked as if she wanted to say something else, but nothing followed for a while. "You should spend time with him tomorrow," she continued. "Talk to him."

"I want to..." Rick said.

"Then do it."

Surprised at the sudden sharpness in Lori's voice, Rick turned to face her.

"I'm sorry," Lori said with a sigh, coming to sit on the opposite end of the couch. She put her face in her hands. "I know things have been crazy lately...It's just...We thought you were dead," she said, looking up at Rick. "You thought _we_ were dead. And it's like we haven't even gotten time to really just bask in that yet."

"I'm sorry," Rick said, feeling apologetic. He also wanted things to stop just so he could reacquaint himself with Lori and his son. "Once Negan is taken care of-"

Lori shook her head. "That won't work," she said.

Rick waited for her to explain what she meant.

Moving closer and taking Rick's hand, Lori looked into Rick's eyes. "I have spent...the last two years...in _hell_. I'm miserable _every day_. The way the world is now, it's _nothing_ but misery. And pain. We can't wait for the crises' to pass in order to enjoy life. Because the crisis will never pass. After Negan, there'll be something else. And something else. So _please_. Can you spend some time with Carl tomorrow?"

The sincere plea in Lori's voice got her point across. Rick nodded. "Yeah," he said, knowing that what Lori said was true. "Yeah, I'll talk to him."

"Thank you," Lori breathed. Her hand continued to rest on Rick's for a moment longer before she pulled away.

"Do we have a plan for Negan yet?" she asked, focusing the conversation on something less personal.

"Not yet," Rick said. "But I do have some things in mind that I have to discuss with Michonne."

Lori felt a sting of rejection with Rick's statement. "You can't talk about it with me?" she asked.

"I didn't think you'd wanna talk about Negan..." Rick confessed.

"I do," Lori said. "I want him out of our lives as much as you do!"

Rick nodded and sat forward on the couch. He was willing to talk through his plans with any trustworthy person that would listen.

"Well," he said. "I think he's made it pretty clear that he wants war unless I turn over either you or Michonne to him – which isn't going to happen. And even then...he wants to take half of our supplies whenever he feels like it. So settling peacefully with him is not an option."

Lori settled back against the couch, thought lines creasing her forehead.

"The only problem with going to war is that he outnumbers us ten to one. Even with The Kingdom and Hilltop on our side. There's no way we can just fight him."

Still deep in thought, Lori offered, "There's gotta be some other way we can appease him without sacrificing me or her..."

Rick's brow furrowed. "What do you mean 'appease him'?"

"Well, there's gotta be a way that we can give him what he wants without fighting. Without anymore of our men dying."

"Yeah," Rick said. "We work like slaves for him and give him – not just half – but everything that we earn. I'm sure he would go for that!" There was an incredulous bite in Rick's voice.

"There's gotta be another way," Lori said. "We can think of something."

"There's no other way," Rick said, unable to believe what he was hearing. "You've lived with this man before! You should know that this type of man wants things his way or the highway! And his way is submission or war!"

"Then we have to think of a way to submit!" Lori said.

His frustration and anger growing, Rick stood up from the couch.

"I'm not saying you have to completely bend over backwards!" Lori implored. "But just give a little! What's wrong with trying to find a way that we could all possibly co-exist peacefully? You said he has too many men!"

"There is no way to co-exist peacefully with this guy," Rick said, flinging his arm as if he was throwing something across the room. "I'm not gonna let him come in and do whatever he wants-!"

"Don't let pride get in the way of keeping your people safe."

Rick released a breath of anger through his nose. 'I can't do this,' he thought. "I'm gonna go to bed," he said.

"Rick," Lori said. She realized he was doing what he always used to do when they had a disagreement. He was shutting down, putting a wall up. "Don't do this. Talk to me."

Rick shook his head. "We'll talk about this later." Lori knew they wouldn't. "You need to get some rest. Let's go to bed."

"Rick..."

Rick made his way upstairs.

When he was gone, Lori pushed her hands through her hair in frustration. Even after all this time, some things never changed.

A few minutes later, Rick heard the shower stop and the bathroom door open. This was followed by the sound of Michonne padding to her room.

Rick only considered for a moment before he got up and followed the sound of her movements. He found her in her room, pulling the covers of her bed back so that she could climb inside. She wore a tank and loose-fitting, silk pajama pants. Her hair was in a messy bun on top of her head.

"Is something wrong?" Michonne asked, when she looked up and saw that it was Rick coming through the door. "I heard raised voices downstairs."

"You heard that?" Rick asked, closing the door behind himself.

"Yeah," Michonne answered. She sat down on the edge of her bed. Rick perched on the arm of the armchair situated in the corner of the room.

"Lori said she thinks we should find some way to co-exist with the Saviors," Rick said, letting Michonne know what was weighing on his mind.

"There's no way to co-exist with them," Michonne immediately responded. "No way that doesn't include us giving in to him entirely."

"That's what I told her," Rick said. "But she's lived with him...She knows him better than we do. Maybe there's some tactic I'm overlooking just because my pride's in the way."

Michonne sighed. Cocky, overconfident Rick could be a problem but she liked that Rick better than the uncertain person she saw in front of her right now. "Come here," she said.

Rick stood up from where he was sitting and walked over to the bed to sit next to Michonne.

"Put your head here," Michonne said, patting her lap.

An amused smile touched Rick's lips. He halfway thought she was joking. "What?"

"Do it," Michonne demanded, patting her thighs again.

Not seeing the harm in her suggestion but feeling a little bit silly, Rick followed her instructions. He picked his feet up and laid in a supine position at the end of the bed, his head resting on Michonne's lap.

He saw her smile from where he looked up at her. "What?" he asked. "Are you trying to pull something on me?"

"No," Michonne answered, still smiling. "Don't be so paranoid."

She placed her hands in Rick's hair and gently ran her fingers through his curls. Rick immediately felt comforted and relaxed by her touch. "I had a boyfriend once who loved it when I did this," Michonne explained. "Relaxed him and allowed him to think better."

Rick could see why. He never thought he could feel so content just by someone running their fingers through his hair. He remembered getting his hair washed by his mom when he was in elemenary school and he remembered enjoying the sensation of water running along his scalp, but this was something else entirely. He inhaled Michonne's fresh scent as she cradled his head. "Mike?" he asked, curious about her past.

Michonne chuckled. "No, not Mike," she said. "I've never done this with Mike before." Rick felt surprisingly lifted by that small bit of news. "But Andre likes it a great deal," Michonne continued.

"How was Andre when you went to check on him?" Rick asked. He closed his eyes, simply enjoying the sensation of her hands in his hair.

"He was fine. He misses you."

"He does?" Rick asked, opening his eyes.

"Yep," Michonne said. "Kids get attached easily. He wants to show off how much he's been walking. Prove to you that he's a big kid."

"I'll go to see him tomorrow," Rick said, happy to be missed. "I was going to go by anyway. Is Mike still talking about keeping Andre away from you?"

"It hasn't been brought up again," Michonne said. "But I don't think it's forgotten."

"Well, we'll just let him know that that's not gonna happen."

Michonne's hand drifted to Rick's cheek, where she stroked the stubble there. She couldn't help but to think that he looked extra handsome with his head in her lap and his vows to take care of her.

Noticing that Michonne's fingers had temporarily ceased their motion, Rick opened his eyes to see her staring tenderly down at him. "...What?" he asked. "You want to kiss me, don't you?"

The smile grew on Michonne's face again and she shook her head at the silly conclusion Rick had drawn. "No," she lied.

"Don't lie," Rick said playfully. "If you want to kiss me, just say so."

Michonne chuckled and shook her head again. "Just tell me what other plan you have when it comes to dealing with Negan," she said, starting to run her fingers through his hair again. "That's why you came over here in the first place, isn't it?"

Satisfied to simply see her smile, Rick closed his eyes and began to enjoy the sensations of her hands again. "I don't know," he said. "I don't really have a full plan yet, but I was thinking if we could just trap him somehow..."

"Trap him alone? Without his men?" Michonne asked.

"That would be ideal," Rick responded. "But how would we do that?"

"We'd have to separate him from his men," Michonne said.

"That could be done, but how would we keep them from immediately attacking us once they realize what's going on."

"...We'll have their leader," Michonne said. "We threaten his life if they attack."

"...Do they have the honor enough to care?"

"Maybe not honor, but they have fear," Michonne said. "They fear Negan."

"So we have to get him to call them off. Somehow."

Michonne's fingers trailed more and more slowly through Rick's hair as she tried to think of any possibilities they had of a workable plan. "...When they come to collect, are we leading them to our stock of supplies or are we bringing it out to them?"

"They'll probably want us to bring it to them."

"Then we need to find a way to make them come get it," Michonne said. "Or more specifically, make Negan come get it. Alone. That's how we separate him from the pack."

Rick's eyes opened. "What would make Negan...?" Before he finished the question, he had the answer.

"Use me as bait," Michonne said.

Rick's heart began to pound and his mind began to work in overtime as a real plan truly began to form. Something could actually come from this. "Are you sure?" Rick asked. "I don't want you in danger."

"Then we'll have to think of the safest way for me to be used as bait." She held Rick's face in her hands and looked in his eyes. "This'll work," she stated confidently. "The best way to catch a mouse is with cheese."

Rick found himself being turned on by the confidence in Michonne's eyes. He took her hand and placed her palm against his lips where he laid a soft kiss. "But you're not cheese," he said. "And Negan isn't a mouse. He's much more dangerous than a mouse."

"...I'll be okay," Michonne assured.

Rick stared up at her.

"What?" Michonne asked.

When he didn't answer immediately, she used his tease against him. "You want to kiss me, don't you?"

"Yeah," Rick answered with no hesitation.

It was the truth. He had never felt so connected to another person. He wanted to complete the connection and make it a physical thing. He sat up quickly, aiming for her lips. With a girlish scream, Michonne dodged his kiss and fell back onto the bed. "No," she laughed. But it was too late. Rick was on a mission. He aimed for her lips again and Michonne turned her head to the other direction, still laughing. After two more tries with no success, Rick propped himself up so that he could look Michonne in the eye.

"Why are you dodging me?" Rick asked, a pout on his lips.

"You know why," Michonne answered indulgently. But she couldn't help but to take a stray strand of his hair that had fallen loose and gently brush it back behind his ear. "You have some things to straighten out."

"I do have some things straightened out," Rick answered.

"Like what?" Michonne asked.

"I love you."

The room was silent as Michonne looked at Rick with some amount of surprise. She was even more in shock when Rick didn't look shaken by what he said. He looked sure and certain of himself. His eyes didn't stray from Michonne's.

"What?" she asked, thinking he must be joking.

"I love you," Rick said again.

"But what about-?"

"I'll always love Lori," Rick said. "But this right here...It's right. I don't think I'm supposed to go back."

He leaned down to kiss Michonne's lips again and, this time, she didn't turn away. His lips met her soft, full ones and he felt even more assured that what he was doing was right. He deepened the kiss, opening her lips to push his tongue inside.

"Mm," he moaned.

"Wait," Michonne said, pulling away once again.

A groan of frustration came from Rick. "What is it?" he asked, distressed.

Giggling, Michonne pulled away from him and stood up.

"Where are you going?"

Michonne laughed harder at Rick's moaning and groaning. She pulled the sheets back on the bed and she climbed inside. Rick watched her with a frown on his face until he saw her hands working under the sheets and then her silk pajama pants were off and being dropped to the floor.

Having gained new life, Rick smiled. "Yeah?" he asked.

"Yes," Michonne replied. "Get over here."

Rick joined her under the sheets and before long, his pants joined Michonne's on the bedroom floor.

"Are you sure?" Michonne asked again as Rick pulled her toward himself. She could already feel his aroused length brushing against her bare thigh.

"Positive," Rick answered.

Rick pushed his hand beneath the band of Michonne's black, lace panties and gripped her firm hips in his hand. It hadn't even really been that long, but he had missed the feel of her – the softness of her skin, the suppleness of her curves, her sweet sighs as she moaned underneath his touch.

They shared another kiss and Rick gained more energy.

He knew he could take on anything with this woman by his side. He would be able to take on Negan next week and he would be able to take on the world at any point afterwards.

He positioned his body over Michonne's and she willingly submitted to his actions.

He pushed her panties down her legs and they became lost somewhere between the tangle of legs and sheets.

Michonne reached to free Rick's member from his boxers and then he was inside of her. Their hips moved together in a steadily increasing rhythm, distanced only by their breaths that escaped at a more heavy, uneven, and frenzied pace.

Rick gripped the headboard of the bed, intense in his lovemaking. He wanted to give Michonne just as much pleasure as she gave him just by being with him.

Michonne moaned softly as Rick's strokes hit her in just the right way.

Their session under the sheets finally hit a steady incline until Michonne's passion drenched Rick's manhood and mixed with his own. She released a satiated breath and they came down from their high together but remained connected.

Rick laid affectionate kisses along her neck and jawline.

"Thanks for being with me," Rick whispered.

Michonne was exhausted and could already feel herself edging right up to the brink of sleep, but that didn't stop her reply. "Always."

\- Patrons, a new poll will be immediately opening up. Vote on what you'd like me to update next. -


	25. Chapter 25

\- Sorry for the long wait! A new poll will be opening immediately pn my P atreon after this update. Vote for which fic you want updated next. :D -

Chapter 25: Bonding Time?

 _A Week Later_

"It's a strange night."

Michonne scrubbed the dish in her hands, cleansing it of any leftover food residue. The sponge in her hand secreted a gratuitous glob of soap as she squeezed it for aide in her task.

Her dreaded hair was pulled into a ponytail that swept the very bottom of her shoulderblades as she washed the plate clean. She always preferred washing dishes the old-fashioned way rather than using a washing machine. Not only did she feel like the dishes got a more thorough cleaning, but she also felt reassured somehow – like everything was normal. Like the old days.

And that's a similarity she shared with the woman drying dishes beside her.

She handed a newly washed, glass plate off to Lori. Lori's hair was also pulled into a messy ponytail as she worked.

"It is," Michonne said, in reply to Lori's observation. Every night that passed peacefully felt strange to Michonne. She had been expecting Negan to come sooner than this. They didn't know when he would attack and that was causing her to become increasingly tense as each day passed. She didn't share her reasoning for feeling strange with Lori, though. She figured she'd let the brunette lead the conversation because it was clear she wanted to talk about something. That had been clear from the moment that she had first volunteered to help with the dishes.

"...He won't talk to me..." Lori finally said.

Michonne didn't have to ask who Lori was talking about. She knew. The awkward tension between Rick and Lori had been unbearably tangible for the last few days.

"I'm not even sure if he's talked to Carl..." Lori finished.

Michonne hadn't even seen Carl lately – he made sure to be out of the house every day as soon as he could manage.

Michonne kept washing dishes, unsure why the other woman was bringing this up to her.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I'm talking to you about this..." Lori guessed correctly.

"It crossed my mind..." Michonne affirmed.

Lori was silent for a time, as if she was working up the nerve to say the next words that came out of her mouth. "I...I heard you upstairs with Rick a few days ago...And last night too."

Michonne continued washing dishes, trying not to feel uncomfortable with the new subject matter – but it was impossible. She was leaving it up to Rick to discuss with Lori whatever he needed to discuss...she was trying to stay out of it. So she wasn't sure what discussions had taken place between Rick and Lori...but she felt like she was about to find out.

"...He won't talk to me..." Lori breathed. There was a discernible amount of shame and pain in her voice.

Michonne didn't even want to think about what it might feel like to ask an ex's new lover for help with family matters. And that seemed to be exactly what Lori was doing.

"I was thinking maybe you could talk to him," Lori finished. "Just to see where he's at."

Michonne finished washing the last plate and handed it to Lori. Turning the faucet off, she turned to the other woman. It seemed deafeningly quiet without the stream of water hitting the sink. "I'm not going to do that," Michonne said.

Shock at being rejected so bluntly caused Lori to pause in the drying of the dish before she started scrubbing it dry again with new vigor. "Oh," she said. "You're right. I'm...I don't know what I was thinking. I shouldn't have asked."

"I'm not going to ask him," Michonne said. "Because it's not my place. This is between you and him. You have to talk to him."

"He doesn't listen to me."

In frustration, Lori sat the dish aside – her task finished. It clinked against the other plates already in the tray.

"Do you want him to listen or do you want to talk to him?" Michonne asked.

"I don't know what you mean," Lori said with a shake of her head.

"The fact that you want him to listen implies that you're the one that's going to be doing all the talking," Michonne said.

As Lori took those words in, Michonne heard a thud against the side of the house. It repeated itself. "Wait here," Michonne said, starting off to check on the strange sound.

"Michonne," Lori called her back before she could go. Michonne turned and waited for Lori's next words.

Lori hesitated for a moment before she said what she wanted to say. "...I still love him."

Michonne was quiet for a moment before she responded. "I love him too..."

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Michonne found the origin of the suspicious noises when she went outside and saw Carl leaning against the side of the house. He was tapping a stick against the exterior of the residence – a seemingly subconscious action since he was deep in thought.

Michonne stopped short. She wasn't sure if she wanted to deal with the angsty teen. In the past week, she and the boy had come to an unspoken agreement that they'd just stay out of each other's way. But before Michonne could turn and walk away – her curiosity for where the sound was coming from satisfied – Carl turned her way. His expression immediately soured. "What?" he asked, his tone short and with an edge.

Michonne was growing weary of the continuous attitude. She pointed at the stick in his hand. "Stop banging that thing against the house."

Carl glared at her. And just to show her that she couldn't tell him what to do, he drew the stick back and struck it loudly against the wall of the house.

Michonne had enough.

She slid her katana off of her shoulder and leaned it against the side of the building. "You ever fight anyone, Carl?"

Carl looked at her incredulously. "What?"

"You ever fight anyone?" Michonne asked again. She rolled up her sleeves and walked toward an empty patch of grass.

"Yeah," Carl said, still watching her incredulously.

"Good," Michonne said. She planted herself in the empty space between her house and the next and put her hands on her hips. "Fight me. No weapons." Her voice and body language read as completely serious.

Carl pulled a face as if what Michonne requested was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. "No," he refused emphatically.

"Why not?" Michonne asked.

"I'm not going to fight a woman," he said. The entire conversation was throwing him off guard; Michonne could tell by the unsettled positioning of his body.

"You were ready to kill me when we first met," Michonne said. "What's the difference?"

Carl didn't know how to respond.

"Or maybe...you're scared," Michonne prodded.

Carl scowled. "I'm going inside," he said, pushing away from the house to head back in and up to his room.

"You're right," Michonne called to his retreating back. "It's not a fair fight. You're just a kid."

Carl stopped in his tracks and turned around. Michonne waited for him to make a move. "I'm not a kid."

"Fine," Michonne retorted. "Then show me."

Carl didn't move for another moment, but when he did, he reached behind himself to pull his handgun from the back of his pants. Michonne tensed until he sat it aside. "You should really start putting that thing in a holster," she said. "It's safer."

Carl glared, unappreciative of more advice from her. He stood back up and walked toward her.

"If I win," Michonne said. "You have to stop giving everyone in this house the cold shoulder. And you have to come down to eat breakfast with everyone else. If you win...I'll leave."

Michonne's offer sparked interest in Carl's eyes.

"Really?" he asked.

"Really."

Carl walked closer and squared his shoulders. "What's a win?" he asked. "Do I have to, like..." he shifted his feet uncomfortably. "Knock you out or something?"

Michonne held back an amused smirk. "Whoever's back touches the ground first loses."

Carl still looked uncomfortable but he agreed. "Okay."

He stood still, and for a moment, Michonne didn't know if he was even going to attack at all. But he did.

He seemed to have the idea of getting this match over with as soon as possible, so he lunged forward with the intention of simply pushing her to the ground. Michonne reacted instinctively and sidestepped him, hooking her foot around his ankle to trip him as she went. Carl fell to the ground, catching himself on his hands.

"You're gonna have to do better than that," Michonne taunted.

Carl pushed himself up from the ground almost as quickly as he had fallen; he was embarrassed. He didn't hesitate in his next move.

He reached forward and grabbed Michonne's wrist. She quickly used the weight of his own body against him by jerking her arm back and causing him to fall off-balance. He strumbled into her space, giving her the opportunity to turn him around and capture him in a headlock. He struggled against her, but Michonne wouldn't let him go.

"You should probably just give up," she said in his ear.

"Never," Carl said back through gritted teeth. He stepped backwards and pressed the heel of his foot onto her toes.

A sharp pain shot through Michonne's foot and she recoiled, loosening her grip on Carl. "Ow!" she said, automatically hopping – wanting to relieve the pain.

"Hey! What's going on over here?"

Rick's voice cut across the yard, ringing sternly.

Carl immediately pointed a finger at Michonne. "She started it."

Still cursing the pain in her foot, Michonne looked up at Rick. He was holding Andre's hand as the little boy walked beside him. "I did," Michonne admitted. "What are you doing with Andre?" She held her arms out toward him and that's all it took for Andre to come running toward her. She lifted him into her arms.

"He wanted to come see you," Rick said. He was still looking between his son and Michonne, confused about what he had just interrupted. "Can I ask _why_ you two were fighting? Because it looked like you two were fighting from where I was standing."

"We were just working things out," Michonne replied vaguely. "Right, Carl?"

"Right," Carl muttered. "He's not going to stay with us, is he?" Carl asked, pointing towards Andre.

Andre didn't seem to hear him; he was too busy trying to wiggle his way out of Michonne's arms. "Mama, put me down. I can walk."

Michonne relented, putting him down on his feet. She was both happy and sad to do so. Happy that he was no longer afraid but sad that her little man was already growing up to be so big.

"He is," Rick answered Carl. "Come here...I wanna talk to you."

"No thanks," Carl said before turning and running off.

Michonne watched him go. She turned back to see an expression of hopelessness and hurt on Rick's face. "He'll come around," she said.

"That's what I've been telling myself for a week now," Rick said. "I try to do things with him, but he won't have anything to do with me."

'Well, that answers Lori's question,' Michonne thought. Rick was trying.

"What was going on here?" Rick asked, walking closer to her. "Is he giving you trouble?"

"No," Michonne said. "I'm just figuring out my own way to deal with him..."

Rick nodded.

"What about you?" Michonne asked. "Did Mike give you any trouble when you went to pick up Andre?"

"No," Rick said. He glanced down at Andre, reminding himself to be careful with his words. "I don't think we'll be having anymore trouble from him for a while." His eyes became sympathetic towards Michonne. "I'm sorry things are so difficult for you right now. Because of me."

"It's not difficult," Michonne reassured him. "But you should talk to Lori. She's waiting for you in the kitchen."

Rick sighed. "I was waiting for them for so long," he confided. "Now that they're here, I don't know what to say." He scratched his brow. "I feel like a failure."

Michonne took his hand and waited until he looked at her. "You're not a failure," she said. "Just go talk to Lori. Nothing will ever get figured out if you keep putting it off."

Rick nodded again. "Okay...I'll go."

Michonne smiled. "While you're doing that...Andre and I...will go visit Ezekial. It's time that he comes out of his funk. Right, Andre?"

"Yay!" Andre screamed, excited to visit Uncle Ezekial again.

"Okay," Rick said. "Remember to keep a walkie on you. We don't know when Negan's going to show up."

Michonne gave a nod. "Of course."

00000000000000000000000000000000000000

Lori was pacing the living room when Rick came inside. At first she didn't acknowledge him. He stood by the door until she did.

"I embarrassed myself today," she said. "By asking Michonne about you. I shouldn't have to go through her to know how you're feeling."

"I know," Rick said, feeling guilty. "I'm ready to talk."

"Not here," Lori said.

"What?"

"Let's go out."


	26. Chapter 26

\- Well, I meant to have this out sooner. Sorry to keep giving you guys long wait times between chapters. :D -

Chapter 26: Past and Present

The day when Negan finally arrived on Rick's doorstep came both sooner than expected and right when anticipated. Rick's heart thudded in his chest as he watched the monitor of his computer screen. They had mounted cameras at the front gate solely for the purpose of seeing Negan's arrival. And Rick had sat at his desk almost every day, waiting. Now his worst enemy was there, waving at him with a wolfish grin.

"We gonna let him in?" Daryl asked.

Only he and Rick were in the office. Rick hadn't said anything for a full minute. He was simply leaned over his desk, his hands templed on the surface, as he watched Negan over video. A vein stood out in Rick's forehead; Daryl could guess what was on his mind.

"She'll be alright," Daryl reassured. "We've prepared for this."

And he was right. At notice of Negan's arrival, everyone had gone to their pre-planned places. They were all waiting for their cue as if they were ready to perform some twisted, theatrical production. One that could cost them their lives if someone missed a beat.

"I know we have," Rick replied. He closed his eyes and took a breath. Finally, he was ready. "Let's go."

 _A Couple of Days Ago_

Lori gently touched the walls of the perimeter. She and Rick were standing right underneath the guard tower at the gate. She had taken him out there to talk, but she wasn't saying anything. Until finally, she worked up the nerve to say what she wanted to say.

"I don't want to give you up," she said, turning to face him. Her confession caught Rick slightly off guard. She could read it on his face. "Maybe I probably should..." she continued. "I know you've started another life without me, but...I just keep thinking...it would be too regretful if I didn't hold onto you, wouldn't it? After all we've been through...I still feel like we've barely had a chance to reconnect."

Rick placed his hands on his hips and looked down at the ground, looking for the right words to say. He had expected to be yelled at and reprimanded. Not this.

"I can't fight," Lori continued. "Or strategize. I can't compare to Michonne...-"

Rick shifted on his feet, feeling largely uncomfortable.

"But I used to be enough for you." Lori's voice shook passionately. "You claim you could think about nothing else besides me and Carl for two years, but...now that we're here I feel like you're not even trying to get to know us again."

Rick shook his head. "I changed a lot while you were gone, Lori..."

"So tell me about it!" Lori pleaded. "I changed too."

"I...can't," Rick said, realizing the truth of his statement even as he said it.

"Why not?" Lori demanded.

"Because..." Rick struggled to bring words forth. "I was awful in those years that you were missing. If you knew the things I'd done...-"

"I slept with Shane," Lori interrupted.

"What?" Rick asked.

"I slept with Shane," Lori said again. "Not even two weeks after he told me you were dead...I slept with him. Because I was so lost and afraid and just needed something..."

Rick tried to wrap his mind around what he was hearing. Along with his wife and son, he had missed his best friend Shane. He knew Shane had had a hand in helping his wife to escape to freedom and he was possibly the reason she had made it up to Virginia, but he had never asked her specifically about her journey. And now that he was hearing it, he found that he wasn't very surprised.

"Carl started to hate me," Lori continued. "He probably still does." Rick shook his head. "And I didn't help matters when I allowed Negan to make me his wife-"

"I told you that you don't have to explain yourself to me," Rick said. "All of that is behind us. All that matters is that you survived-"

"Exactly!" Lori shouted. "Exactly! It's behind us. You're not judging me so why do you think I would judge you? Do you really think I'm such a horrible person?! That you're the only benevolent one? Jesus, Rick!" Lori scrubbed a frustrated hand across her brow. "I just- I just want to try!"

Sympathizing with her distress, Rick acted on his natural instincts to comfort her and pulled her into a hug.

With his touch, all of her tension melted and she sobbed lightly into his shirt. "I just feel so on the outside with you."

 _Present_

Lori paced the one-room cell at the Alexandria Safe Zone, regretting every decision she made that led her to this moment.

"I should've never talked to Rick," she muttered, goosebumps forming on her arm.

A knock sounded at the door, causing Lori to jump – almost out of her skin. "Visitor!" a guard shouted through the door. Then the cement cage was opened. Light flooded through and Michonne stood in the doorway, handcuffs and black fabric in her hand.

Lori's stomach dropped; she felt more and more unsettled as time went on. "Is that really necessary?" she asked, pointing at the cuffs.

"Afraid so," Michonne answered, stepping through the door. It was closed behind her.

Michonne dragged a metal chair from against the wall and placed it behind Lori. "Sit."

Lori sat down, all the while trying to keep her entire body from trembling. It didn't work. Michonne noticed tremors in the other woman's fingers. She held the handcuffs out to Lori. "Here," she said softly. "You can put them on yourself." When Lori didn't immediately take them, Michonne squatted down so that she was on her level. "You can always back out, you know."

"No," Lori said. She took the handcuffs. "No. I can do it."

 _A Couple of Days Ago_

"How can I make you feel better?" Rick asked.

"At least tell me the plans regarding Negan..." Lori answered. "What did you come up with? Can we be safe?"

Rick sighed. "Come with me..." He led them to the shadows of the armory.

There, he told Lori of he and Michonne's plan to hopefully get the upperhand on Negan in their upcoming battle.

"And Michonne's okay with being bait?" Lori asked, after Rick finished telling her the plan.

"She volunteered," Rick said. "And I have all the faith in the world that she'll get through it okay."

In that moment, Lori felt jealousy as she never had for the other woman. She hadn't even felt this envious in the couple of nights that she heard Rick placing his nightly affections elsewhere. He had faith and believed in Michonne. She hadn't experienced that since the early years of their marriage. "What if I'm the bait?" she asked impulsively.

Rick was taken aback with surprise. "What?"

"I'll be the bait," Lori said again, more assured of her statement.

"Why would you-?" Rick asked.

"He wants me," Lori said. "The same as her. Maybe more. You can use me as bait and that frees Michonne up to help you fight some other way."

Rick was quiet, weighing the pros and cons of her suggestion.

 _Present_

"He agreed to this because he'd rather you come out of this safe than me," Lori said.

Michonne paused in her action of tying a blindfold across Lori's eyes. She stepped back and looked at her. "That's not true," she said.

Lori shook her head, not knowing why she said that aloud. "Right," she said. "You're right. Rick doesn't...think like that. Sorry. My mind's just...going crazy." She took a deep breath, her face pale.

"Are you sure you're okay to do this?" Michonne asked. "It's very important that Negan believes you're a prisoner when he gets here."

"Oh, I'm sure he will," Lori said, trying to find some sort of humor in the whole situation. "Wouldn't you?"

Michonne looked from Lori's pale skin to her shaking hands. She had to agree; the woman definitely looked distraught. "Okay," Michonne said, approaching her again. "I'm about to put the blindfold on you now, okay?"

Lori nodded. When the black fabric began to block her vision, though, she shook her head. "Wait. I- Never mind. Could I...actually not wear the blindfold? I'm freaking out enough as it is."

Michonne considered it for a second then stuck the blindfold into her back pocket. "What'll it hurt. It was just for looks anyway..." she said, mostly to herself.

"If...If Negan doesn't buy this whole thing..." Lori started. "What do you think will happen?"

"Well..." Michonne said. "He probably won't kill you; he'll just try to use you to get to Rick."

That didn't make Lori feel any better. " _That's_ reassuring."

 _A Couple of Days Ago_

Michonne piled her dreadlocks into a messy bun and lathered herself with a simple skincare formula she had concocted. Her movements were slow and it was clear that her head wasn't there; she was thinking about her visit with Ezekial.

She had just come back from his place and she was more worried about the man than ever before. Empty liquor bottles had been scattered on the coffee table of the house he resided in – a house that was somewhat separated from the rest of the suburb – and he hadn't looked anywhere close to the kingly man he prided himself in being. His eyes were red and bloodshot and it smelled like he hadn't bathed in at least a week.

Michonne sighed and capped her bottle of moisturizer when she felt a pair of arms come around her middle. For a second, she tensed but it didn't take her long at all to relax again – realizing the feel of those arms anywhere.

"What are you doing?" Rick's voice rasped in her ear.

Michonne smirked, his voice alone cheering her up. "Getting ready for bed," she answered. "You?"

"Just came back from talking with Lori."

From the tone of his voice, Michonne could tell there was something there that he wanted to talk about. "And?"

"She said she wants to be the bait when Negan comes."

Michonne frowned and she turned so that she was looking at Rick. "Why would she wanna do that?"

"I don't know," Rick said. "But she seemed determined to do it..."

"Well, what did you say?"

"I said...I'd walk her through exactly what to do."

"So, you agreed to it?"

"Do you think I shouldn't have?" Rick searched her face, her thoughts on the matter obviously important to him.

"Do you think she can handle it?" Michonne asked.

Rick responded, "Lori's stronger than she seems."

"Then..." Michonne said. "If she's okay with it, and you're okay with it...I'm okay with it."

Rick cupped Michonne's face in his hands and pulled her forward for a kiss. This was the only time when he felt that everything was right in his world – when he was with Michonne.

"Is Andre asleep?" he asked.

"He is," Michonne responded. He had fallen asleep immediately after his visit with Ezekial. Michonne was relieved that it seemed Andre hadn't been able to pick up on Ezekial's lack of enthusiasm for life in general. "How about Carl?" she asked. "Is he back yet?"

"No. I saw him talking to Enid at the pantry as I was coming back." Rick released a loud sigh. "I don't know what to do about him. I can't really ground him or send him to boarding school." Rick went over to his bed and began to take off his shoes.

"Oh God," Michonne said, following him. "I'm sure that wouldn't have been an option even if it were still possible..."

"What?"

"Sending him to boarding school. Does anybody send their kid to boarding school besides rich white classists who don't want to raise their kids?" She climbed onto the bed behind him and began to massage his shoulders.

Rick chuckled. "Well..." he teased. "Maybe I was a rich white classist before the apocalypse. You don't know."

This time, Michonne was the one to chuckle. "Haha. I doubt it."

"Why?" Rick asked teasingly, turning to look at Michonne. "You don't think I was a classist?"

"I know you weren't," Michonne said. "And I also don't think you were rich," she laughed.

To show his exaggerated offense at such an assumption, Rick gasped. "What makes you think I wasn't rich?"

"Well, I happen to have been in the presence of a lot of wealthy people in my old life and I observed them all. None of them were like you."

"Like me?"

"Yeah...down-to-earth," Michonne said, settling on that word to describe him. "They were more like..." she thought for a moment. "Gregory."

"Oh, well, I'm glad I don't come off like _that_ ," Rick said. "But, Michonne, I've realized something while you were talking..."

"What?"

" _You're_ the classist."

Michonne laughed. "What?" She stopped massaging Rick's shoulders. "I am not."

"Yes, you are. Observing people and determining how rich they were before..."

"I've always been able to read people," Michonne said. "It's part of what's kept me alive this long. Besides...if I couldn't read people, how else am I supposed to get to know someone as close-mouthed as you."

" _You're about the most close-mouthed son-of-a-bitch I ever knew,"_ Shane's words suddenly rang back into Rick's mind. And he thought of Lori and the discussion they'd just had – the problems they'd had even before the apocalypse. He turned to Michonne and suddenly became serious.

"Is there anything you wanna know about me?" he asked. "Something I haven't told you before?"

"You mean everything?" Michonne asked.

"Come on..." Rick pulled her closer. "Tell me what you want to know."

"Everything," Michonne replied. "But you don't have to say it all tonight. We can get to know each other more and more over time. After Negan."

 _Present_

'After Negan'. Those words themselves motivated Rick to look ahead to a point when this man – his enemy – didn't exist. And the fact that he could conjure up an image of the way things would be 'after Negan' encouraged him to think that it was possible to defeat this enemy and overcome this hurdle.

This plan just had to work.

He stopped just in front of the gate and came to face-to-face with Negan on the other side. A wide grin split the other man's face. "There you are," he said. "I was beginning to think I wasn't welcome. And it's rude to make guests feel unwelcome, isn't it?"

Rick squinted at his enemy and then motioned for the guard on duty to open the last barrier between him and his enemy.

The barred gate opened and Negan stepped inside with his chest wide. "That's better!" he exclaimed. Taking a deep breath, he looked around as some of his men came in after him. "Should we sit down for tea?" he asked. "Or do you wanna get right to business?"

Not in the mood to humor him, Rick chose the latter option. "The supplies are in the pantry."

Negan glanced at his men and gave them a nod. This was apparently a signal for them to get to work with gathering up the supplies because they began to move forward.

"Daryl, lead them to the pantry," Rick instructed.

As they were leaving, Rick turned back to Negan. A good amount of Saviors was still behind him. 'How do I get him separated from the group?' Rick thought to himself, his mind working overtime.

"Anything else for me?" Negan asked.

Rick knew what he was hinting at. The muscles in his jaw twitched. "We have Lori in the cell," he said. "You can take her back with you."

A moment wherein Negan seemed shocked at Rick's acquiescence passed and then he chuckled. "Decided you wanted Black Beauty, huh?" Rick scowled. Negan watched Rick carefully and his eyes narrowed. It seemed he did quite trust the deal. "You throwin' the kid in as well?" he asked. "Two-for-one?"

"No," Rick snarled. "Ca- the kid...stays here."

"So let me get this straight..." Negan said. "You get to keep your wife, my RV, _and_ the bratty ass kid that I happen to have grown quite fond of. And in return...I get Lori." He scratched his brow and Rick shifted on his feet as he seemed to think it over – or at least – as he feigned thinking it over. "See...I don't think that's gonna work. Lucille and I want some new toys."

Rick cursed inwardly. He had known it wasn't going to be so easy, but Negan's games annoyed him all the same. He waited for Negan to expound on what he meant.

"I want Lori and Michonne." Rick gritted his teeth. "Oh...and my RV." Negan flashed a pleasant smile after what he considered a more-than-polite request.

"That's not gonna happen," Rick growled.

"Oh?" Negan blinked curiously. "Why is that?"

"I've offered you the deal," Rick said. His hand rested on the butt of his gun at his hip – his fingers ever at the ready. "It's non-negotiable."

"Oh," Negan chuckled. "Oh, I see. You think you have a choice." His chuckle died and his gaze hardned towards Rick. "When are you going to learn that it's my world? You're just living in it." Without taking his eyes off of Rick's, he pursed his lips and whistled.

Rick heard footsteps shuffling behind him and he turned to see what was happening. His stomach dropped to his knees when he saw two burly Saviors roughly pushing a scowling Carl in front of them and his stomach dropped further when he saw two other Saviors approach – one holding a struggling and wailing Andre in his arms.

Immediately, Rick pulled his gun from the holster at his side and held it on Negan.

"Uh uh uh," Negan said. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." More Saviors poured in through the gate and all lined Rick in their sights. "Shoot me and both of those boys are dying," Negan said. "Give me what I want...and you can at least save one of them."

Rage and horror burned in Rick's eyes. Negan grinned. That was exactly what he liked to see.

"I'm going to force you to choose..." Negan said. "I understand how difficult it might be. Your new stepson and your real son...the one you've been disacquainted with for so long..."

A spark of surprise flashed across Rick's face and his breath hitched.

"What?" Negan asked. "You really think I wouldn't figure out that that's your kid? Or that Lori was your wife? It wasn't too hard." A smug upturn of his lips went along with that statement. "Lori apparently talked about you to some other people at the compound. She thought you were dead, poor thing. Didn't take long for me to put two and two together." He sucked some air in between his teeth; the intake of air caused his chest to expand.

"So what's it gonna be?" Negan asked. "Old son...or new son? And if both Lori and Michonne aren't here before me in five minutes, they both die."

\- Don't forget to go vote in the next poll on P atreon if you're able. :D -


	27. Chapter 27

**-** Sorry, everyone, for the long long wait. There are going to be about one or two more chapters of this, then I'll be done with this fanfic.

A new poll to vote on which fic I should update next can be found on P atreon.

AND HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVE! -

 **Chapter 27: The One Before The End**

Jolted awake by a crash seemingly loud enough to wake the entire country, Ezekial sat up hurriedly and fumbled for his staff. It was leaning against the armchair of the couch he sat on, but his clumsy fingers sent it falling to the floor instead of onto his lap. It landed on the carpet with a soft thud as Ezekial blinked against the light that now flooded into his darkened home.

"Who is it?" he called.

His question was answered by the snap of his front door being hastily closed. He didn't know who was in his home until she was squatting in front of his face, her eyes wide and her frown deep. "It's me," Michonne said. Her dreads fell over her shoulders and swayed in an almost hypnotizing fashion. Ezekial's eyes began to droop shut again, but a sound slap against his cheek awakened him completely.

"What's going on?" he slurred.

"Get up," Michonne snapped. "We're under attack."

'Under attack?' Ezekial felt the stirrings of panic, but his muscles were too drenched in alcohol to react properly. "From who?!"

"The Saviors." Michonne hurriedly went to the window and peeked outside. "We had a plan but...something's wrong. It's not going like we thought it would." She threw a glance over her shoulder at Ezekial, who was struggling to stand up.

"What are we gonna do?" Ezekial asked. Michonne disappeared from the room. "Where should we go? We don't really have anywhere else to run to-"

His words were cut short by a cold cascade of water hitting his skin.

"We're not running," Michonne said, dropping the now-empty bowl she held in her hands to the floor. "We're gonna fight. And we need your help."

Recovering from the shock of cold water being splashed on him by Michonne, Ezekial looked at her questioningly. "How can _I_ help?!"

A man's shouting could be heard from outside, followed by a responding scream.

Michonne fixed Ezekial with a stare. "You're King Ezekial," she stated simply. "And we need you. We need The Kingdom."

00000000000000000000000000

Andre's loud wailing rang out amongst the buildings and trees in and surrounding the Alexandria Safe Zone. He was still a boy too young to know any other way to release his fear than to scream and cry. Rick lowered his weapon, inwardly panicking about the situation he was currently facing. "Please," he said, realizing he was at a loss. "Please don't do this."

A wide, satisfied grin spread across Negan's face. Rick Grimes looked terrifed; Negan was experiencing a Christmas come early.

"I'm not doing anything," he said. "You are. You're in control here, Rick." He smiled wider at his blatant lie. "Just tell me what to do."

"Take- take me."

"Huh?" Negan asked, cupping his ear in an effort to hear Rick's choked voice. "What was that? I didn't catch it."

Altogether seething, horrified, and humiliated, Rick swallowed back his rage and raised his voice. "Take me," he repeated.

"Ah," Negan said, dropping his hand. "Why would I wanna do that? You're not as pretty as the women." His eyes trailed away from Rick's. "Speaking of..."

Following his eyeline, Rick turned to see Lori being guided to the front. Her hands were still tied and she looked frightened. Her eyes widened when she saw a Savior with a gun to Carl's head.

"Where's the other one?" Negan growled, immediately noticing he was a woman short. Michonne wasn't being pushed to the front alongside Lori.

"The men are still looking for her," Simon, Negan's salt-and-pepper haired right hand man reported. "She wasn't with this one," he finished, roughly shaking Lori.

Negan held back a simpering smile as impatience lied just beneath his calm facade. "Where is she?" he asked Rick.

"I don't know," Rick replied truthfully. If they hadn't come across Michonne near Lori's proximity, Michonne had either hidden herself extremely well or she really wasn't there. And if she wasn't there, Rick had no idea where she truly was. He kept himself from glancing around for her and hoped she was safe wherever she was. And that she wasn't planning something rash.

"You don't know?" Negan asked, his impatience rising. "You still don't seem to grasp the magnitude of the situation you're in. You got any _guesses_ as to where she might be?"

Rick tried to think quickly on his feet, wondering if a lie or the truth would serve him better at the moment. Andre's crying only added pressure onto a tense situation. "No," Rick finally answered from between gritted teeth.

Negan chuckled, finally losing the patience he barely had a grasp on in the first place. Whether Rick was telling the truth or not, he considered him to be defiant. And he wouldn't stand for defiance. "No?" he said. "Fine. Maybe you just need a little incentive."

"Boys!" he shouted to his men. "Every building you search that doesn't have Michonne in it...Burn it down."

Saviors nodded their acceptance of the order and began to fan out to search buildings. Rick scowled as Negan smugly smirked at his new twist. "There," Negan said. "Maybe we can smoke her out. Unless...you think you have a guess as to where she is now. I can always call my men off."

"Three minutes, sir," one of the Saviors reported.

"Ah. Hear that?" Negan asked Rick. "Two more minutes and both kids are dying..."

"What?" Lori gasped out.

"So you might wanna make your choice," Negan finished.

"Rick, what's going on?" Lori asked frightfully.

"Oh, it's nothing," Negan answered her. "Rick here is just currently deciding which kid he wants to see get a bullet in the brain. His bio kid – or his stepkid. You'd think the choice would be simple, but...I don't know, Lori, looks like he loves his new family more."

Negan's back was turned to Rick and Rick was tempted to put a bullet in his brain. He wouldn't even see it coming. If only there weren't so many of his men...Rick cursed his predicament.

"Four minutes."

"Rick..." A tear escaped Lori's eye. She didn't know what to do, but she wished for Rick to do something – anything.

"Sixty seconds left!" Negan exclaimed. "Dwight, can we get a countdown?"

Dwight, a lanky blonde with a burned face, began to count down the seconds. Screams rose as one of the houses behind Rick caught on fire.

"Oh-ho!" Negan laughed, crazed glee burning in his eyes just as hot as the flames that just ignited. "And the bonfire has started!"

"Thirty-eight, thirty-seven, thirty-six..."

The pistols aimed at Carl and Andre's heads were cocked. Andre continued to wail.

Rick gripped his Colt Python. He could think of no way to get out of this. But he'd kill both men before they could pull their triggers and put a bullet in Negan's head before he just watched this happen. It was a surefire way for him to get killed, but he didn't care.

Negan seemed to know what he was thinking. "Someone hold him," he instructed his men, nodding at Rick.

Rick immediately started to hoist his gun, but someone grabbed him from behind – a larger man, trapping him in a bear hug. Rick head-butted him, but he couldn't fight the two other men who came to help wrestle him to the ground.

"Twenty-six, twenty-five, twenty-four..."

"Rick!" Lori cried.

"When are you gonna stop trying to fight me?" Negan asked Rick. "Hmm? Tell you what...for that act of rebellion...Dwight, skip ahead some."

"Ten, nine, eight..."

"No!" Lori screamed. "Please! Please, Negan. Don't kill my son." Tears streamed down her face.

Negan ignored her. "Knock the little one out first," he instructed his men. "So it'll be painless. Show these fine folk that we're not _complete_ monsters."

"But, sir, won't knocking him out hurt him?"

"Oh yeah...Oh well. Do it anyway. Can't hurt more than a bullet."

"Five, four, three..."

"Don't touch him!" Rick mustered every ounce of strength he had and managed to elbow one of the men holding him down in the face. He felt and heard the bone of the man's nose crunch and crack. The other two men holding him down immediately began to press down on him. He inhaled dirt as he struggled to free himself, but he was feeling increasingly hopeless.

"Two..."

"I'm here!"

Michonne interrupted the countdown and walked into view with her arms outstrectched and her sword on her back. Rick tried to meet her eyes, but she was focused on Negan. Maybe Rick should have felt relieved that the countdown had been momentarily stopped, but it didn't please him to see all of his loved ones in the same place – in the same danger.

Prompted by a head nod from Simon, two Saviors moved forward to restrain Michonne and take the sword from her back.

"Well, well, well," Negan said. "Look who just strolled up like she was takin' a fuckin' walk in the park." He looked around at his men accusingly; they shifted on their feet. "How useless can all of you be? I thought I had made my standards pretty fuckin' clear! But it looks like I'm gonna have to make an example out of some of you when we get back." There was more shifting and obvious discomfort from the Saviors. "I can't have you all embarrassing me in front of Rick and...Samurai Lady here!" Negan turned to face Michonne with a smile. "What's your name again, sweetheart?"

Michonne scowled, sure that he knew her name. "Michonne," she responded anyway.

"Michonne..." Negan said. He caught his tongue between his teeth. "I love it."

As always, Michonne fought a wave of nausea at his lechery.

"Well, Michonne," Negan said. "You made it just in time. If you wouldn't have shown, both of these boys' brains would be splattered in the dirt by now. Not a good look..."

"Mama!" Andre wailed. Michonne, the most frightened and angry she had ever been, felt her heart fill with worry at Andre's cry. This was literally her worst fear come to life.

"But don't worry," Negan said in a reassuring tone that didn't really reassure anyone. "Now only one of them has to die. And it's up to Rick here..." Negan turned to Rick once again, his smile back in place since all of the players were present. "Oh yeah..." he teased. "You didn't think you were completely off the hook, did ya? You still have to pick one to die 'cause I can't let you get away with the insubordination you've shown me so far."

Michonne glared. Lori was practically shaking with fear. Rick stayed silent.

Negan turned to Carl. "You'd think this would be easy," he said. "I mean...you share his blood. But I guess not...Looks like he loves his new family more."

Carl squinted at Negan. He hated him more than anybody in the world. "This is embarrassing, you know?"

Negan's eyebrows shot up, surprised to hear Carl speaking. "What is?" Negan asked, a smirk of amusement dancing across his features as he hitched forward a step. "Your father's lack of balls? Yeah, I would agree."

"The fact that you're threatening two kids because you don't know how to handle my Dad," Carl corrected.

The amused smirk flew from Negan's face. He was enjoying this no more.

"You know what, Rick?" Negan said, a cold stare directed at Carl. "I think your boy just made the decision for you."

"Noo!" Lori cried. "No, please!"

"What?" Negan asked, whipping around to face Lori. "You want me to kill the other one? If so, say it! I'm taking recommendations!"

Lori's eyes stayed on Carl and her breathing came in tight gasps. She felt as if she were hyperventilating. Her eyes then moved to the wailing four-year-old and then his mother. She continued to have difficulty breathing, but her tears stopped.

"Come on," Negan urged. "Say it. Say you want me to kill the little one and save Carl."

"I won't," Lori said, her eyes on the ground.

"Why not?" Negan asked with a laugh that held no humor. "It's only natural! He's not yours! Just be honest! You'd rather I kill the little guy and she'd rather I kill that little shit..." He faced Michonne and pointed at Carl. "Isn't that right?"

Michonne refused to respond to him.

Negan turned back to Lori. "Say it."

Lori shook her head and raised her eyes to Negan's. "I won't."

Negan sighed. "Bleeding heart fuckers..." he mumbled to himself. "Fine," he announced. "Then kill Carl."

Lori sobbed and shut her eyes tight to shut out what was about to happen.

A crowd of ASZers who gathered around the commotion looked on fearfully and with bated breath.

"If you touch him," Rick growled. "You die."

Negan held up his hand to put a pause on his command. He chuckled. "Rick...I thought we had already been over this. My men outnumber yours. If you kill me, you die."

"Then I die," Rick said. He had no care for his own life if his son was dead. The mere thought of him being alive was all that had kept him going for two years.

Negan could tell by just looking into Rick's eyes that he was serious. And that baffled him. He laughed again. "You know, Rick...I don't know where you got your inflated sense of worth from...Maybe my favoritism towards you has gone to your head, but...you're replaceable. I don't need you; I just need what you can provide for me."

"Then you'll have one less community providing for you," a voice suddenly said from the crowd. Glenn stepped forward. "Because the people of the ASZ won't follow anyone else besides Rick."

"Who the fuck are you?!" Negan asked.

"You could always move some Saviors here and have them pick up the slack," Michonne chimed in. "But after destroying the Kingdom and then this place...that wouldn't be very productive, would it? And isn't that your thing? Productivity?"

Negan stared, still annoyingly smug but also obviously – and for the first time – at a loss for words. "Really?" he asked. "You all would really follow Rick to your own destruction?" he asked the people of the ASZ.

"And then some," Jessie said from the front of the crowd, holding her two boys – Ron and Sam – to her chest. The rest of the ASZ crowd chimed in, voicing their loyalty for Rick.

Negan's smile turned icy. The fervor with which the people from the ASZ followed Rick was different than what motivated his own people to follow him. His people were just afraid. Rick's people...loved him. He had thought intimidation and fear had been the key all along, but maybe he was wrong...

Just as Negan was in the midst of questioning his whole world order, a spear zipped through the air and pierced Negan's stomach. It was a straight and sure shot that sent Negan sprawling to the ground and gasping silently – suddenly struggling to breathe through his own blood.

No one moved as they witnessed the unexpected happening, but the cause soon revealed himself.

"You can take the King away from his Kingdom," Ezekial's voice boomed. "But he is still a king."

Everyone turned to where the voice was coming from – the roof of a nearby home, almost directly in front of the place where everyone was gathered. Ezekial was standing there with his arms outstretched and his long coat flowing. He looked a much better sight than he had just a few moments before. From beside him appeared two men, one was well-muscled – Jeremiah. Michonne assumed he was the one that threw the spear. He was known for his accuracy and strength with the weapon.

Michonne would have smiled, but no one had time to really make heads or tails of the situation. The Saviors were starting to realize that their leader was down and their natural response was to kill everyone in the vicinity who wasn't on their side.

The grizzly man holding Carl wrapped his hand around the boy's throat and placed his gun against the back of his head. Carl's eyes closed at the sound of a gunshot. When he felt the hand that was around his throat loosen its grip and heard the thud of a body falling, he turned to see Rick had beat the Savior to the draw. Rick's next victim was the man holding Andre; Andre screamed as the man went toppling to the ground and he went with him.

Gunfire began to ring out all around.

"Carl!"

Carl turned to Michonne, who impaled a Savior and used his body for a shield. Seeing that she got his attention, she continued. "Take Andre to safety! Please!"

Carl glanced over to Lori, who was attempting to scramble away. "I'll take care of her!" Michonne shouted, understanding his worry. "Please take Andre!"

With the fight quickly growing more intense, he had to act quickly. He ran toward the still wailing Andre and scooped him up off of the dead man's body.

Michonne watched them until they ran out of sight, and then she focused fully on the threat all around her. Noticing Lori get caught by a large, burly, female Savior, Michonne took the gun out of the holster of her impaled victim and she fired off a headshot. The Savior woman fell to the ground, dead. "Lori! Over here!" Michonne called. Lori ran over to her. "Can you shoot?" Michonne asked. Lori nodded. "Here." Michonne handed her the gun she had just gotten.

"What's the plan?" Lori asked, hoping to be told of some plan to escape the mess they were in.

"Kill as many as you can," Michonne said.

Lori looked around the group with wide eyes, seeing the problem that everyone else saw. They were wildly outnumbered. But she aimed and fired at any Saviors, doing the best she could to help.

Other ASZ residents helped as best as they could, but most of them weren't armed. All of their guns were back in the armory or in their homes.

Rick made his way over to Michonne and Lori. "Push back towards the armory," he instructed.

"Will we be able to win if more people are armed?" Lori asked.

"I don't know," Rick responded truthfully. "But we'll have a better chance than we do now."

Even that was an optimistic statement. Michonne was looking around, and she couldn't see how they were going to make it out of this alive. She was determined to stand and fight as long as she could, though. She made eye contact with Rick and she could tell that he was thinking the same way.

"I love you," Michonne said quietly, not knowing if she'd have another chance to say it.

"I love you too," Rick responded.

Ready to face their enemies head-on, they readied themselves for a fight with twenty plus Saviors. It didn't help that at least half of those men had their guns aimed and ready. Michonne, who only had her sword at the moment, thought surely... 'We're going to die.'

She raised her sword to fight against the impossible odds when a spray of gunfire rained down. Michonne was surprised that she didn't feel any pain. She thought maybe she died instantly and was experiencing some sort of immediate out-of-body experience, when she realized the bullets weren't coming from the Saviors guns.

Instead, they were falling like dominoes.

She looked up to see Rosita and another woman firing from two hidden spots in the trees. About a week ago, Tobin had built two small platforms that spanned across two branches of two separate trees that stood opposite from each other just for this purpose alone. They had conspired with the Hilltop in order for the other community to help them in their plan against Negan. They had planned to send a signal through radio when they needed the help, but because the plan had fallen to pieces, Michonne didn't think they became aware of their SOS that way. They must have seen the smoke rising from the burning houses. Whatever the reason that they were there, though, Michonne was just glad to see them.

Realizing they were under attack from a surprise enemy, a few of the Saviors ran for cover while others turned and shot wildly at where they thought the bullets were coming from.

"Open the gate!" Rosita called, as she ducked away from the spray of bullets.

Michonne and Rick didn't need to be told twice. Rick planted the remaining two bullets in his gun in the brains of two of the Saviors and reloaded while he went toward the gate. Michonne and Lori covered him. When he pushed open the gate, they were greeted with the sight of armored trucks and Hilltop residents loaded and ready to fight. It looked like Abraham had been busy training them for combat.

The large, red-headed man stepped forward with a rifle in his arms. "You gonna let us in?" he asked.

Rick didn't know where Abraham had found the gasoline or how he had built the muscle, but he gladly stepped aside for the red-haired apparition. "Glad to see ya," he said as Abraham passed.

With a glance, Abraham only nodded at him and responded. "I owe ya." He turned back to the men and women behind him. "People! Move out!" Led by Abraham, the trucks moved through the gate and into the ASZ.

Daryl appeared with ASZers behind him carrying weapons from the armory.

Horses ridden by men and women from the Kingdom burst from the stables.

Rick caught Michonne's eye as she pulled her sword free from a dying Savior and wiped the blade clean on his shirt. Just as she had at their first meeting when he realized this woman was something special. New hope sprang in his chest. 'We can win this thing...'

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Rick laid down on the infirmary cot next to a sleeping Michonne. She winced and pulled air through her teeth as he settled and made the mattress hitch. "Ahh~!"

"I'm sorry," Rick said quickly, worried that he had disturbed her wounded side. "Are you okay?"

Michonne, still frowning, opened her eyes. "Get your own cot," she chastised.

Rick chuckled, but he didn't move. He wanted to be near her. To look at her face and know that she was still with him. They had made it through. A little banged up – he gently raised her shirt to look at the dressed bullet wound on her side – but alive. "Luckily it's just a graze," he said.

"Yeah, luckily," Michonne agreed. She laid her hand on top of his. She was happy that he was alive and in one piece as well. "We did it," she whispered.

"We did..." Rick smiled; he almost couldn't believe that it was really over.

Michonne seemed to be following the same train of thought. "Do you think they'll come back."

"Maybe," Rick said, speaking about the remaining Saviors. The ones who had retreated. "But they took some heavy losses today. And without Negan, they're unorganized thugs. So we'll be ready for them."

Michonne nodded. "We'll be ready."

Looking around at the empty infirmary, Michonne's brow furrowed. "Where is everyone?" Before going to sleep, she remembered more people being treated by a frantic Rosita who was in way over her head. Now it was just her.

"Rosita moved most of them to Deanna's old house. More room."

"Who's Deanna?" Michonne asked, squinting against the drowsy effect of her painkillers.

"Oh yeah, you never met Deanna, did you?" Rick said. Sometimes it hit him all over again that he hadn't known Michonne for longer than a few months. It seemed as if he had known her for years. "She was an old Congresswoman who used to live here. Her and her family were here before me and the others showed up."

"Oh? What happened to them?" Michonne asked, focusing on Rick's lips to stay awake.

"I..." Rick hesitated. He was just now thinking back on what happened to them. It floated up from the recesses of his memory like a shameful secret. "I exiled them..." he said, remembering it as if he was remembering the actions of a different man. In a way, he was.

"Why?" Michonne asked.

Rick closed his eyes, afraid to look at Michonne should he see disappointment there. "She tried to exile me...because she said I was dangerous. That same night...there was a walker attack...I saved them...got the community on my side. Then I exiled her and her family. I could've shown mercy." Rick sighed, wondering why he was just now thinking on this. Wondering how he could have just so easily cast four lives away.

Michonne laid her hand on Rick's cheek to get him to open his eyes and look at her. "Maybe they're still alive," she said. "Maybe we can find them-"

Rick shook his head. "No," he said. "No...They weren't prepared. They had no idea what the world was really like outside of this place. There's no way they made it."

Michonne frowned, saddened by this new information. She was just dealing with the weight of it when she heard Andre's voice. "Mama!"

Michonne lifted herself up to see him. He came in holding Carl's hand. Lori trailed behind them. When she saw Rick and Michonne on the same cot, she came to an abrupt stop and caught Carl's shoulders. "Oh," she said, surprised. "I'm sorry; I don't wanna interrupt."

"No," Rick said, sitting up. "No, come in."

"That's okay," Lori said, still hesitating in the doorway. "We were just bringing you Andre. He kept crying because he wanted to see you."

Michonne looked at Andre and saw his tear-stained cheeks as proof of that claim.

"Someone should teach him how to fight. Or shoot or something," Carl said, looking at the younger boy. "So that he doesn't just cry."

"Give him a couple more years," Michonne said. "Then yes...thank you for volunteering."

"Wait. Huh?" Carl said, caught off guard.

Michonne smiled a close-lipped grin and Rick chuckled. "We'll take him," Rick said, standing up from the bed. "Thank you for watching him."

"You don't have to thank us," Lori replied.

Rick lifted Andre into his arms. "Thank you anyway," he said sincerely to Lori.

Lori nodded and tapped Carl on the shoulder. "Come on, Carl." Carl lingered, looking like he wanted to say something, but he decided against it and followed his mother out of the infirmary.

He turned back around to see Michonne in deep thought. "What is it?" he asked.

"Nothing," Michonne said. "I just have this strange feeling that...everything's gonna be fine."

Rick smiled. "So do I..."


	28. Chapter 28

\- The next chapter should feature smut. And it may be the last chapter. -

Chapter 28:

The sun glistened off of the blade of Michonne's sword – firm and steady.

Lori could almost hear the wind whistling along the blade as it split the air. It was a slythe and beautiful weapon. Almost as beautiful as the woman who wielded it. Almost.

Michonne's muscles stood out beneath the beautiful glow of her skin. As her arms rose, her chest and back straightened. Her arm muscles flexed. Each movement was mesmerizing. Michonne's hair – braided down her back for the day – moved along with her, an extension of all of the rest of her. Everything was working in perfect harmony.

Lori could understand why Rick was standing transfixed over the kitchen sink now, staring out of the window at her. He had been washing his hands, but the water ran quite pitifully over his fingers – as he was paying no attention to the cooling liquid. His eyes were stuck on the woman outside. As were Lori's when she saw what he was looking at.

Resignation settled in Lori's stomach at the sight.

When Michonne touched the tip of her sword to the ground, kissing the earth with it, then sheathed the blade – Lori knew she was finished with her exercise. She sat down to meditate and finally Rick broke out of his trance. He finished washing his hands and turned the water off.

"Oh," he said, surprised to see Lori standing there when he turned around. "I didn't know you were up."

Lori nodded, a tight smile on her face. "Yeah, um...sorry. Didn't mean to startle you. Just coming to get breakfast."

"Okay," Rick said. A slightly awkward silence filled the kitchen. "Where is Carl?"

"He's upstairs with Andre."

Rick nodded. He was glad the two children seemed to be getting along lately. Andre had been stuck to Carl's side the past couple of days. "I'm gonna go check on them..." he said.

Lori allowed him to pass. She was sure he left because he felt what she did whenever they were alone together these days: an insurmountable tension that seemed as if it couldn't be overcome. She sighed and decided to forgo breakfast for the time being. Instead, she went to the back door and stepped outside into the early morning breeze.

"Give me a chance." She spoke to Michonne's back. At first, she didn't think Michonne heard her but eventually she got a response – though Michonne didn't turn to look at her. Her eyes were still closed and she continued to meditate.

"What?" Michonne asked.

Lori thought about changing course. It was hard to ask a favor from the lover of the man she loved, but she swallowed her pride and continued. "I can't compete with you."

Again, Michonne didn't speak. But Lori knew she heard her, and she knew what she meant. She assumed Michonne's eyes were now open because Michonne's meditative form dropped slightly. "So what do you want?" Michonne asked, finally turning over her shoulder to meet Lori's eyes.

Lori probably would have been intimidated if she didn't know what kind of woman Michonne was. She was calm. And reasonable. She didn't have to worry about Michonne using the muscles that were so clearly on display against her. Not for this. "I just need a little while..." Lori managed.

Michonne's brows furrowed. She almost looked angry and Lori wondered if she had underestimated the kind of things that set Michonne off.

"You need a little while...alone with Rick?" Michonne clarified.

"Yeah," Lori replied, sticking to her guns.

Surprised by the request, Michonne stood up, realizing she wasn't going to be meditating this morning. "For how long?" Michonne asked. "You want me to leave?"

Lori shook her head, looking for the right words. "Two weeks," she said quickly. "Just two weeks. And it's not to seduce him or anything, it's-"

Michonne walked forward and stopped in front of Lori; Lori had to stop herself from flinching. Holding herself with a silent confidence, Michonne spoke. "Whether I'm here or not has no bearing on whether or not you can get closure with Rick." She sheathed her sword. "I'm going to be out with Ezekial for a few hours...that's all the time you have."

After speaking, she brushed past Lori, the scent of grass and sunlight on her skin. Lori sighed. She realized how strange her request must have seemed. "I hope I didn't seem-"

"It's okay," Michonne called back without looking over her shoulder. "I get it."

Still feeling as if she may have crossed a line, Lori shook that feeling away to get her head straight. 'A few hours.' She had to figure out a way to let go of ten plus years of marriage in a few hours. Lori rubbed a frustrated hand against her forehead. 'Easier said than done.'

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Michonne found Rick in the bedroom upstairs, slipping on his boots. "What are you doing?" she asked, leaning in the door frame.

It was a strange feeling for her to look into this room and think of her future there. Strange and exciting. Because that's all she saw now. She remembered how she felt when she first came here – how she couldn't wait to leave and go back home. Now this _was_ her home. And she couldn't wait to experience without the fear of living under the threat of Negan and his crazy band of Saviors.

Rick smiled when he looked up and saw her. "I should be asking you the same thing," he replied. "What were you doing out there working out when you're not fully healed?"

Michonne stepped away from the door frame. "I'm fine," she said, immediately doing a couple of side stretches. "See?"

"Okay," Rick said, holding his hand up to get her to stop worrying him. "I believe you." He stood up and stepped closer to Michonne, laying his hands on her waist. For no other reason but to touch her. "I'm about to take a walk with Carl and Andre," he said, his voice gentle. "You want to come?"

Michonne smiled, enjoying the image that came to her mind – the three of them walking together. Rick and Carl having a long-needed talk. "No," she said, shaking her head. "You take your time with them," she said. "I'm going to go...bid Ezekial goodbye."

"Okay," Rick said. "Let Ezekial know we're here for whatever he needs. Resources, hands...to help rebuild...we're with him."

Michonne nodded. Noticing that she wasn't leaving immediately, Rick knew she had something else on her mind. "What is it?" he asked, gently stroking the small of her back with his still lingering hand. He hoped what she had in mind was the same as what he had in mind. He figured he had a good twenty minutes while Carl got Andre ready.

"Lori might like to go with you on that walk," Michonne said.

Rick's brow furrowed. He was taken aback. Out of everything he had been expecting to hear, he hadn't been anticipating the mention of his old wife on Michonne's tongue.

Wondering where she was going with this, Rick followed her line of thought. "Really?" he asked. "Because I saw her downstairs and she didn't really say anything..."

"To you," Michonne said. "She said something to me."

"What did she say?" Rick asked, letting his hands fall from Michonne's waist. His hopes for a quickie were pretty much gone.

"Just that she needs to talk to you."

Rick sighed, feeling sorry to Michonne that his situation might be causing complications in her life. "We've talked a couple of times," Rick said, running a hand through his well-washed curls. "I'm not sure there's much left to say."

"Well...she seems to think there is," Michonne said. "And I would have to agree with her. Seeing as...we're all still living under one roof. With no idea where to go from here." Michonne chuckled. For days now, she had been thinking about the status of their living situation and wondering what the best course of action would be. Of course she was going to stay with Rick. But she didn't know how Rick and Lori were planning on reconciling their rooming situation. She didn't know how she felt about becoming one big family with Rick's old wife. She knew how she would have felt in her old life, but these were special circumstances. And she didn't feel that it was her place to push Rick to make a decision one way or the other. Not now. Not when he still had so much to repair with his son.

Rick walked forward and placed his hands on Michonne again, gently cupping her hips. "Does it bother you that Lori's here?" he asked.

Michonne thought over her response. "It doesn't bother me that she's here," Michonne answered truthfully. "I'd just like to know...what I need to get used to. Do I need to get used to this being a full house or...?"

Rick's eyes flickered to Michonne's full lips as he thought. His forehead brushed hers. He breathed a sigh. "I don't know..." he answered. "Carl-..." He wanted to be with his son.

Michonne nodded. "I know," she said. "You don't have to have an answer right now. I'm with you no matter what. Just go...talk to Carl and Lori and...we'll see what happens..."

Feeling consumed with love for the woman in front of him, Rick pressed a passionate kiss against her lips. His strong hands gripped her backside, causing her to stumble up onto her tiptoes and crash pleasurably against him.

Michonne allowed herself to be drawn into Rick's soft kiss and his probing tongue, but after a couple of minutes she pushed him away. "Okay..." she said. "I'm gonna stop you right there." Gently stepping away from Rick, she smiled. "We actually have things to get done today and I know if I let you keep going...none of it will happen."

Keeping his disappointment at bay, Rick let her step out of his grasp. "Fine," he said. "Rain check." His sharp blue eyes held Michonne's, letting her know how serious he was.

Michonne smiled and nodded her agreement. "Rain check..."

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"Who knew that when I sent you off – you practically kicking and screaming – that you'd become so attached to this place that you don't even want to spend a couple of days away to give me a proper sendoff?"

"Huh?" Michonne pulled herself back to the present and away from the home and man she had just left. Back to Ezekial – who was much more cheerful than he had been in a long while. Much like his old self.

Ezekial chuckled, her absentmindedness proving his point. "But it's not this _place_ you're attached to, is it?"

An indulgent smile settled on Michonne's lips as she caught up to what was happening. Ezekial was teasing her. Like he used to. She had missed it. "Oh, come on," she said. "Are you jealous 'cause I'm not traveling back to the Kingdom with you?"

Still with an easygoing manner, Ezekial said, "I have to admit...I hate losing my right hand to someone else."

Michonne rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you'll be just fine. Besides...you're the one whose idea it was to marry me off in the first place."

"That it was," Ezekial replied. "And I'm glad to see that you've adjusted quite nicely." He finished loading up his few belongings onto the waiting horse in the road and he turned to Michonne with a sad smile. "I'll really miss you. With rebuilding the Kingdom and you gone...it's like I'm starting over again. From scratch."

"You will be," Michonne said. "In a way. But you've done it before. You can do it again, right?"

"I can," Ezekial agreed. A thought seemed to strike him him and he glanced at Michonne. "What about Mike?" he asked. "Will he be coming back with me?"

Slightly surprised to be asked the question, Michonne looked for an answer. "Uhh...I don't know," she said truthfully. She and Mike were past the time in their lives when they may have discussed something like this. "I doubt he'd want to leave Andre though."

"Or you." Ezekial said.

Michonne didn't know how to respond to that. In her heart and mind, she knew she and Mike no longer shared that kind of relationship. She honestly didn't know where he stood anymore though.

After the incident with the Saviors' raid of Alexandria Safe Zone, Michonne had gone to see if Mike was okay. He had just been sitting in his living room, broken. Saviors had come in and taken Andre at gun point. There had been nothing he could do. Michonne told him that, but he had been in a bad place – unconsolable. She hadn't seen him since then. She knew she would need to rectify that soon.

But for now, she pretended that she hadn't heard Zeke. "Let us know if you ever need help with anything. You know we'll offer The Kingdom any resources we can spare."

Ezekial smiled, realizing that she avoided his last barb but letting it go. "Of course," he said. "I'll be seeing you, Michonne."

Saddened to see her friend depart, Michonne nodded. "Hopefully soon..." she encouraged.

A few moments later, as she watched Ezekial travel down the road to leave with the rest of the Kingdom residents, Michonne was surprised to realize she had a lump in her throat. It really was like starting from scratch.

0000000000000000000000000000000

"Andre, careful!" Rick called as he watched the young boy trying to keep up with Carl who was leading everyone by walking ahead. At the sound of Rick's voice, Carl glanced back and slowed down just enough for the younger boy to catch up – but he made no acknowledgement past that.

Rick and Lori followed behind the two children. As Michonne had said, Lori had caught them downstairs and asked to join them on their little excursion. Rick figured it was time for them to stop dancing around the issue and really take stock of what their plans were going forward.

"I still don't know what to say to him," Rick said softly, speaking of Carl.

"Just say anything," Lori said. "He just wants you to talk to him."

"Did he say that?" Rick asked, looking at Lori beside him. She wore a long gray sweater and jeans. Comfort clothes.

"No," Lori said, crossing her arms over her stomach and running her hands up her arms as if she were warming herself from a chill. "But he doesn't have to."

"Oh..." Rick said, squinting. "It's obvious from the way he ignores me? And huffs every time I'm around?"

A small smile crossed Lori's lips. "He's just acting tough," she said. "He doesn't know how to speak to you." She paused. "You both have that in common. Not speaking."

Rick glanced at her. "I guess that's fair..." They watched Andre pick up a stick and try to engage Carl in some kind of sword fighting game. A game Carl mostly ignored...until the opportune moment and he launched a sneak attack which left Andre screaming in delight.

"I've been going over and over again about what we should do here," Rick continued, getting right to the heart of the matter while the children played. His voice was quiet.

"And?" Lori asked. Rick was quiet.

"The ball's in your court," Lori continued. "You know where I stand on this; I think I made it pretty clear the last time we talked. But I won't push."

"I think you're right," Rick said. "That we haven't gotten a chance to spend time like we used to and see how things work. And I'll always love you – I know that and you know that. But...that's just it, Lori-" The kids had stopped up ahead to continue playing their game and Rick stopped to face Lori. She stopped along with him. "We haven't really had a chance to catch up and get to know each other again because there hasn't been time. And the world as it is now isn't going to allow us that time."

"I spent every minute that you and Carl were gone missing you. But then Michonne just came into my life. And she made things bearable again. I didn't make time for falling in love with her; it just happened."

Lori dropped her head. "You're in love with her?" she whispered.

Rick continued softly. "Things have changed. Things changed for us a long time ago. And I'm _choosing_ not to go back. I'm sorry."

Rick released a breath. That was harder than he had expected. But now that it was done, he felt like a million weights had been lifted off of his shoulders.

Lori nodded. "And Carl?"

"I'll talk to him," Rick said. "We'll have to figure out a way to deal with this in a way that'll hurt him the least. I'd love it if...he could stay with me for a while...So that he can get used to having me in his life again."

"But you want me to move out..." Lori said.

"It's not fair to Michonne if you stay..." Rick said.

For a moment, Rick wondered what Lori would say. If she would make this easy or difficult. He knew that sometimes she liked to argue and make her point.

But she also loved Carl and wanted what was best for him. And she made that clear in the decision she made. Not to yell or scream but to make this as easy for him as possible. "With the Kingdom people moving out, there should be some homes opening up," she said.

Rick almost breathed a visible sigh of relief. Lori wasn't being vocal with her emotions as she usually was, so he wondered how she really felt about all of this. He couldn't tell; she was hiding it well. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Lori met Rick's eyes and finally he could see some of what she was feeling. Hurt. Maybe a little bit of anger. But also acceptance. "I will be..." she said.

Having the answer she needed, Lori told Rick she would be going back to give him quality time with Carl. When she left, he hurried to catch up to the two kids. Upon his arrival, Carl's carefree smile immediately faded and he stopped giving fake jabs to a laughing Andre. Rick swung Andre up into his arms and carried him as they walked.

"How are you, son?" Rick asked, his eyes ahead. He sent glances in his son's direction.

Carl shrugged. "Okay," he said, trailing the stick he held in his hand along the ground – cutting a slight trail in the dirt at their feet.

"I just talked to your mom," Rick started. Carl didn't respond. "We're figuring things out."

Carl was silent for a moment more before he spoke. "You mean about what to do with your two wives?" Rick looked over at Carl, recalling that he was talking to a young man and not the little boy he remembered. "You know, Negan had dozens of wives."

"I heard," Rick said, wondering why Carl was bringing that up to him.

"And I don't think it was that big of a deal," Carl said. "You can have two wives."

"It's a very big deal, Carl," Rick said. "The only way that kind of setup can work is if all participants are equally fine with that kind of thing. And I'm not. Neither is your mother or Michonne. Besides...I don't think Negan is any kind of man to replicate in the decison-making department, do you?"

"I guess not..." Carl said. "So you don't want to be with Mom then?"

"I love your mom, Carl," Rick said. "But we can't live together like we used to."

"Cause you'd rather live with Michonne and Andre..." Carl said with a scowling pout on his face.

Rick reached out and stopped Carl so that they were facing each other. "I asked your mom if you could stay with me," he said. "At least until we figure out a more permanent situation that works for all of us. I don't want you to think for one second that I don't want you. Or that I love you any less."

Rick didn't know if he was saying the right words, but the scowl on Carl's face seemed to soften a bit. He also moved his head in an imperceptible way that may or may not have been a nod. Carl's eyes scanned the ground instead of Rick's face. He turned to begin walking again. "I know it's gonna take some getting used to," Rick said, starting to walk with Carl again. "But it'll all work out. Okay?"

Carl walked silently for a few steps until Rick heard, "Fine..." And that was that.

Rick had no idea if this talk was sufficient, but it was a start. And he was confident that they could continue opening up to each other. 'At least I got more than a huff and a grunt this time,' Rick thought, satisfied at the progress.

"Is Carl going to live with us?" Andre asked, his small voice hopeful.

"He is," Rick said.

"Yay!" Andre cheered.

Rick chanced a glimpse at Carl's face and it almost looked like he was wearing a small smile.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29:

Adjusting to life as the guardian of more than one child was an adjustment for both Michonne and Rick.

Sunlight was slowly and gently streaming through the window of the Grimes' bedroom to help to awake the sleeping family there, but the sun's rays were not needed. The two figures that occupied the room had gotten up before the sun and were already in the process of waking each other's bodies up with kisses, undulations, strokes, and ministrations.

Michonne lay straddled over Rick's body, their skin brushing, as Michonne gently rolled her hips atop Rick's hardness. The sheets brushed against their skin, eliciting gentle sighs that matched the small breaths that fell from their lips.

"I missed you," Rick breathed, speaking of the long hours and days that she had not been in his bed. The amount of time he had been without her in his arms felt like an unfit punishment to a repenting criminal.

Her wet walls engulfed his throbbing manhood and it was the greatest feeling he had ever felt.

He splayed his hands against her bare, arching back and pulled her toward him – wanting to feel the smoothness of her ample breasts against his tongue. "Come 'ere," he urged, his voice a gruff whisper.

Michonne worked her hips faster, turned on by his sensual command. Her thighs clenched him as she settled in for the ride and a soft, involuntary moan spilled from her throat. Fire built in her loins as Rick's mouth closed over her nipples and his tongue circled her tit. Everything – the friction of him inside of her, the squeak of the bed, his guttural breaths, and even her own moans caused Michonne to grow wetter and her reach towards the peak more insistent.

Rick sat up and gripped her hips in his hand. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," Michonne responded.

Michonne would never have expected to be in this position the first day she met Rick Grimes. Or even the first month. To be straddled atop him, enjoyably impaled. She covered her lips with his and shared a deep kiss. Her hands mussed his hair as they came to a slower rhythm – both silently mutual in wanting to prolong their lovemaking.

Michonne leaned back as Rick's hands trailed down her arms and landed on her torso. His eyes ate away at her skin, making her feel hot underneath his gaze.

His hard member was hot inside of her and she felt a tiny monster growing inside of her with each of his thrusts, growling and unfurling like a snake. It breathed fire and her lower belly grew hot like a furnace while her womanly pleasure center sang with the friction of their bodies that kindled the flame. "Fuck," Michonne moaned softly as she clutched Rick's shoulder and began to push her pelvis faster and harder against him once again.

Rick gripped her hips and helped rock her against himself; his eyes darkened. It seemed that her use of expletives turned him on. So Michonne continued voicing her pleasure.

"Fuck me, Rick."

Rick wrapped his hand around the back of Michonne's neck and pulled her to his lips with a hungry growl. The kiss they shared was long and full of tongue. Michonne moaned, happy to be connected with Rick in such an intimate wa-.

The door to Rick and Michonne's room banged open.

"Hey, Da-" Carl stopped in his tracks immediately and turned, without saying a word, to leave the room. The door shut behind him with a pitiful 'chh'.

"Oh my God," Michonne said, scrambling off of Rick. "I should have locked the door."

A reddish tinge was rising up from Rick's torso to his face and Michonne didn't think it had to do with what they had been engaging in seconds before. But through his seeming embarrassment, he tried to reassure Michonne anyway. "It's okay," he said. "He's a big boy. He can- he can understand this."

"I wish he didn't understand it," Michonne retorted, wishing Carl knew no such thing as birds _or_ bees. The kid had just started to barely tolerate her. This would probably set them back a few steps. "I'll go make him some breakfast..." she said with a sigh as she pulled a loose t-shirt on.

"Hey." She was stopped from rising from the bed by Rick's gentle touch on the small of her back. When she turned to face him, he stared at her with such a comforting and reassuring gaze that she couldn't help but to smile softly. "You're doing great," he said. Words she needed to hear if the bundle of tension knotted in her stomach was any indication.

"Thanks," she said, leaning forward and accepting his chaste kiss. A kiss that said, 'I'll let you go this time, but this isn't over.' "You are too." She got up from the bed, less enthusiastically now, and pulled some pants on. "I'll see you tonight."

"Okay," Rick said. He laid back in bed and Michonne groaned. He knew what he was doing with his bulging muscles and blue, blue eyes.

"Nice try," she said, breaking herself from his spell and turning to leave the room.

"What?" he shouted after her innocently. Michonne ignored him and closed the door.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

When Michonne made it downstairs, Carl was nowhere to be found. She went to the kitchen and began pulling down pots and pans. Deciding to make simple scrambled eggs and toast, she brought out everything she needed.

"Let's fight."

Michonne paused in what she was doing. And then continued. She cracked an egg into a black frying pan. "You sure you don't want to eat breakfast first?" she asked without turning around. She could recognize Carl's voice.

"If I win," Carl said, ignoring her olive branch. "Then you have to leave. If you win, then I'll leave."

"Where will you go?" Michonne asked, acting nonchalant like this wasn't the most childish and outlandish thing she was hearing right upon waking.

"I'll live with Mom," Carl responded easily.

Michonne nodded. "I don't think your Dad would appreciate you leaving," she said.

She could practically imagine Carl's head tilt and the squint of his eyes upon his reply. It was a lot like his father's. "Who says I'm going to lose?"

Michonne almost chuckled. 'This kid...' she thought with a shake of her head. "Hmm..." she said.

"What?" Carl asked. The bite of his question coming out in the hardness of the 't'. His irritation was apparent.

Michonne turned the stove down and finally turned to look at Carl. "I'm just not sure that abusing a child is acceptable...even in an apocalypse."

If Michonne could have said anything to upset Carl farther, she definitely chose the right sentence. His lips tightened until lines of white parsed his upper and bottom lip. "I'm not a child," he said.

Michonne smirked. "Fine," she said, having him right where she wanted him. "Give me a minute." She walked out of the kitchen and heard Carl stamp his foot in agitation at being temporarily ignored. She made her way up the stairs, went into the childrens' room and pulled paper and pen from a makeshift cupboard that Rick had bruised himself making. She then tip-toed over to Andre who was still sleeping.

After smiling down at him and giving him a small kiss, she went back to the room she shared with Rick to tell him to get Andre up and ready in about ten more minutes. She didn't want to have to be the one to wake the angelic kid from his peaceful sleep.

Once that task was done, she made her way back down to the kitchen, sat at the kitchen table, and then began to write.

"What are you doing?" Carl asked. His stomach growled, an underlying weakness to his affronted tone.

"I'm drawing us up a contract," Michonne said. "Releasing myself of any responsibility if I happen to hurt you. You say you're not a child so we're entering into this battle as if you are my peer and equal."

Carl looked a little taken aback at the formality but scoffed to show that he wasn't shaken. "Fine."

"Fine," Michonne agreed, continuing to write. "You should go ahead and scramble those eggs while you wait. This could take a while."

"I'd rather not," he shot back. But his stomach betrayed him again, releasing a large growl. Michonne looked up at him with raised eyebrows. "Fine," Carl said again with another scoff. He got up from the table. "How do I do this?"

"You don't know how to scramble eggs?" Michonne asked, honestly surprised.

"No," Carl said, defensive. "Why should I? Nobody taught me."

In that moment, Michonne genuinely felt bad for the kid. He had been thrust in the middle of the world ending, believed for years that his dad was dead, and instead was raised at the harsh equivalent of a war base. Michonne only allowed sympathy to show on her face for a second before she quickly wiped it away. She knew Carl was the kind of kid who wouldn't appreciate that. "Well, do you want me to teach you," she asked. "Or you wanna try it yourself."

Carl didn't answer for a moment, his pride struggling with his hunger.

"Just tell me what to do," Carl finally said. "You don't have to get up or anything."

"Okay," Michonne agreed. She turned back to her paper to continue manufacturing a quick and easy contract while keeping a sidewise glance on what Carl was doing. She didn't want the kitchen to burn down. "What you wanna do is..." she scrawled quickly across the page. "Crack five eggs in the skillet...and scramble them."

Michonne didn't miss the annoyed look Carl threw over his shoulder in reaction to her simple instructions. "Is that it?"

"Yep," Michonne replied. "You're gonna need to season them too. Grab the salt and pepper from that top cabinet but don't use a lot...the seasonings are disappearing fast from the pantry."

Carl did as she instructed and commented casually, "I could get us some more before it's all gone."

"You would have a hard time; Olivia's not freeing up any extras," Michonne said, still working on the paperwork. "At least not with the salt and pepper."

"I wouldn't ask," Carl replied back easily. He postured over the cooking eggs, unsure for a brief moment... "So _how_ much of this do I use?"

But Michonne was more interested in what he said before. "What do you mean you wouldn't ask?" she asked, finally looking up from her legalese.

"I mean I would take it," Carl said with a shrug. "When she wasn't looking."

"You mean steal it..." Michonne clarified. As a responsible adult, Michonne knew that she should reprimand Carl and tell him that stealing was something he shouldn't ever consider but...this was salt and pepper. And she was tired of bland dinners. "Hm...I'll take care of it," Michonne decided. "You just worry about those eggs."

She shook her head. She was seriously considering stealing salt and pepper from Olivia. She wouldn't tell Rick about this. Or Carl. She couldn't have him getting a big head in thinking he had a sound idea.

The sound of sizzling eggs and the occasional scrape of the spatula against the frying pan filled the kitchen as Michonne focused less and less on Carl and more and more on what she was writing. It wasn't until the pleasant aroma of eggs began to smell more like the burning stench of rubber that her attention was pulled from her business.

"Carl!" she shouted, standing up quickly. Her chair scraped backwards across the floor, adding an unintentional sense of urgency to the situation.

"What?" Carl asked, startled.

"Do you not smell that?" Michonne asked, rushing over to where the confused boy was still standing to turn the stove off. "The eggs are burning." She looked down at the brown and tough looking substance that once was edible maybe four minutes ago. "I'm not eating that," she said.

Carl's face flushed red. "They're not burned," he said stubbornly. He grabbed three plates from an overhead cabinet and began to divvy out the contents. "If you don't want any, we'll just eat it ourselves."

"Uh-uh," Michonne said, taking one of the plates and placing it right back where Carl had gotten it from. "Who's we? My baby's not eating this. But if you and your Dad want to, go for it."

"Fine," Carl said with a shrug, splitting up the burned mass between two plates. He carried them to the table.

Michonne smirked, maliciously getting joy from the thought of watching Rick struggle through his less-than-quality breakfast.

"I guess you get the cooking genes from your mom," Michonne ribbed lightly. She had heard about Lori's inability to make decent pancakes.

The mood in the kitchen had actually become quite comfortable and familiar to Michonne while she was with the young boy so her stated comment slipped out easily and without much thought. It wasn't until Carl spoke up from behind her that she remembered that they weren't quite at the point where she could just say anything. " _Don't_ talk about my mother," Carl said, his voice hard.

Michonne sighed and closed her eyes, disappointed in herself for forgetting who she was talking to and what kind of relationship they had. 'Great,' Michonne thought. She hadn't meant it in a particularly offensive way but she could see how he could have interpreted it as a 'your mom' jab.

She turned around and raised her hands in surrender. "I didn't mean anything by it." She walked forward and slid the piece of paper she had been working on off of the table. "I'm done with this. You read through it and sign. I'm gonna go do something then make eggs for me and Andre." She handed the paper over to Carl and he took it with a huff. She logged the attitude; she would address it later. "I'll be back," she said, heading towards the front door.

"Where are you going?" Carl asked.

"The pantry," Michonne replied over her shoulder.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

When Michonne was gone, Carl read over the quickly scrawled contract she left.

"I, Carl Reginald Grimes, hereby declare that my mental and physical faculties are those of a full-grown adult and thereby release Michonne Elon Grimes from any liability or responsibility of fault if I am hurt or gravely injured-" Carl stopped reading. His mind stopping on the word gravely. He scoffed. "This is ridiculous," he grumbled to himself, pretending that he didn't feel a small amount of consternation. He hadn't quite expected this little duel to become anything quite so serious as to cause "grave injuries". He kept reading.

"I understand the risks and consequences of the proposal I have offered and will take full responsibility-"

"What are you reading?" Carl jumped, startled, when his father interrupted his perusal of the contract.

"Nothing," he said, angry at himself for being so jumpy.

"Is Michonne here?" Rick asked.

"No," Carl replied. "She went to the pantry."

"Good," Rick stretched, his world-built muscles protruding with the action. "She told me to get Andre up in ten but he looked so peaceful that I'm gonna let him sleep a little more. What's this?" He looked down at the brown mounds of egg-like substance plated on the table.

"Breakfast," Carl said. "For you and me. I made it."

Rick physically took a step back from the table. If he could have run, without looking like a crazy person, Carl was sure that he would have. "Is...is Michonne not making anything?" Rick asked.

"She is," Carl said. "But she's just making something for herself and Andre." Rick's face lost all color. Carl pretended not to see. "She said you and I can eat these." When Rick didn't immediately sit down, Carl continued. "It was my first time scrambling eggs. I'm sure they're good."

Rick's expression softened and a hesitant, forced smile appeared on his face. "Yeah, I'm sure they will be." He pulled out a chair, sat down, and placed a napkin in his lap. "Do they have any salt and pepper?"

"Just a little." Carl watched his father tensely. He was surprisingly very worried about what he would say about his scrambled eggs.

Rick, pinned under Carl's scrutiny, cleared his throat. He started to sit down but veered toward the cabinet after another look at the brown pile of eggs on his plate. "I'm just gonna...use a little bit more. I like a lot of salt and pepper."

"Michonne said not to use a lot because we have to save it," Carl said.

"I won't use a lot," Rick responded, grabbing both the salt and pepper shakers. He sat back down and quickly dashed a little bit of both onto his food. Then he dashed a little more. "So are you and Michonne getting along?" Rick asked.

"No," Carl answered bluntly. But he didn't extrapolate; he slid the contract further to his side – out of Rick's view.

"I think you two would get along if you would give her a chance," Rick said. If he was trying to distract Carl with conversation, it didn't work.

Carl nodded toward Rick's food. "Have you tasted them yet?"

Rick forced a tight smile. "No...uh...not yet...about to..." He picked up his fork, looking for all intents and purposes like he wanted to flee the room.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Michonne situated the bag she was carrying so that the contents of it would not rattle together when the tote jostled against her hip as she walked. Her gait was a little more hurried than usual but, other than that, she walked with a calm and normal stride.

"Michonne."

She stopped and turned her attention to Mike when she heard her name called quietly from his mouth. "Mike?" she asked, unsure if he had even called her since the whisper was so low. Maybe she had just imagined her name being called or maybe there had just been a strange whistle of the wind.

But she knew she wasn't mistaken when he gestured her over with a discreet sweep of his hand and a jut of his chin. She followed him over to a quiet place next to someone's porch. "What's up?" she asked, wondering why he was being so timid.

He looked the same as usual. His clothing just looked a little more worn. Usually his attire was crisp and just-washed; it was currently wrinkled from previous handling and his shirt carried a smell of dirty laundry – like he just picked it up off of the floor and pulled it on.

"I know we haven't really talked about what we were gonna do about Andre but um...he can stay with you."

Michonne initially felt a burst of excitement. Of course, those were words that she had only dreamed of hearing. She had planned to speak to Mike about this at some point in the future because they still hadn't come to a real agreement, but she had been putting it off due to the dread of him continuing his stubbornness...but to just acquiesce like this...

It was then that her excitement was followed by caution. And worry for Andre. Why was Mike making this offer so suddenly and how would it affect their son?

"Why?" she asked, speaking her thoughts aloud.

A look of confusion crossed Mike's face. It seemed he didn't understand the question. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

Michonne stepped closer to Mike as if their private conversation wasn't private enough. "You're not planning on no longer seeing Andre, are you?" she asked. "He needs his father."

Mike shook his head. "No. Never. Nothing like that. I'll still be in his life."

"Then what?" Michonne asked, knowing there had to be more to his sudden concession.

Mike hung his head and struggled with his next words. They appeared to catch in his throat and pain him. "I wasn't able to do anything," he finally said. Michonne listened carefully, waiting for further explanation. "When they came for Andre," he finally said. "They attacked..." He turned his head; his lips pinched together. The memory still obviously angered him. "They burst into my home, took Andre at gunpoint, and there was nothing I could do. He's not safe with me." His voice shook with the admittance, almost as if he was holding back a sob.

Concern and empathy touched Michonne's features. She shook her head. "You can't blame yourself, Mike," she said. "There's nothing you could've done-"

"No, but you could've done something," Mike said, cutting Michonne off and looking her in the eye. "You could've protected Andre."

"Mike-"

"All this time I've been faulting you for going off and fighting instead of staying with your family...but it wasn't your leaving that bothered me. It was that you were doing what I couldn't." Mike's eyes wavered up to hers. "I should've took better care of our house; I shouldn't have burdened you to do it all."

Michonne felt an invisible weight lift off of her heart. She hadn't even known it meant anything to her to hear Mike say that, but it did. It meant a lot. "You were there for Andre when I couldn't be," Michonne said, needing Mike to know that he wasn't a bad father. "You always have been. I don't know what happened in that house when the Saviors came, but I know you did what you thought was best for Andre. And he's safe." She reached out and took Mike's hand. "That's all that matters. Andre is safe and he loves you."

Mike nodded. Michonne didn't know if her words truly reached him but she had to trust that he would continue to be there for Andre. In the meantime, her son would stay in her home and she would take care of him.

Mike tried to hoist a smile that didn't quite make it onto his lips. "I was an idiot to let you go..." he muttered.

Michonne smiled sadly; she guessed this was the official ending to their relationship. "You'll be okay, Mike," she said. She gently took her hand from his. "Come visit Andre whenever you can." Mike nodded, slowly turned, and then he walked away. Michonne watched him go, silently wishing him the best.

0000000000000000000

"Oh no, don't tell me I missed breakfast," Michonne said after having walked into the kitchen to see a sallow looking Rick Grimes seemingly holding back the alleged food he had just recently swallowed from climbing back up his esophagus. His plate was empty while Carl's was still nearly full. "I hurried back because I wanted to be here."

"Well, you came too late," Rick responded. He met Michonne's eyes and she could swear she saw some accusation and resentment there. His jaw still worked slightly as if he were still chewing on a rubbery substance that didn't seem to want to dissipate. Michonne lifted her eyebrows as if to say, 'What?' As she expected, Rick looked away with no argument; she held back a smile.

"I picked up a couple of things from the pantry," she said. She opened the bag she was carrying and pulled out four large jars full of pepper and salt – two containers of each.

"Oh," Rick said, surprised, as he watched her setting the contents onto the kitchen counter. "Olivia let you take that much?"

"Mmm," Michonne said, not necessarily commenting on it. She exchanged a sidelong glance with Carl and naturally he moved changed the subject to something else. For a moment, they were allies.

"Do you want me to go get Andre?" he asked his Dad.

"You didn't wake Andre?" Michonne asked Rick.

"I couldn't," Rick replied, successfully distracted. "He seemed so comfortable."

Michonne smirked and rolled her eyes. "Softie." She turned to Carl. "Could you go get him up please?"

Carl held up their fight contract, now signed. "But-"

"We can do that later," Michonne said, taking the contract from him. "Andre needs to eat breakfast."

Resigned, Carl stood up with a sigh. "Fine."

"What's that?" Rick asked, nodding to the contract, once Carl had disappeared upstairs.

Michonne handed it to him. "Your son wants to fight me." She took more eggs out of the refrigerator, preparing to make a proper breakfast for herself and Andre. And maybe a little extra for the two poor men who had to try to scarf down burned eggs.

"What?" Rick asked, looking at the piece of paper with concern. He sighed. "Don't worry. I'll talk to him."

"You don't have to," Michonne rebutted. "I can take care of it if it's okay with you."

Rick looked at her, still concerned. "You sure?"

"Mmhmm," Michonne said. "I actually think we're starting to understand each other."

Rick continued to look a little worried but he decided to trust her. "Don't hurt him too much," he conceded as Carl came back down the stairs carrying a sleepy Andre who was rubbing his eyes.

Michonne gently took Andre from Carl's arms. "Since we're both going to be full," she said. "How about we postpone the fight until tomorrow."

Carl shrugged easily. "Fine. I'll give you time to practice." He strolled to the table, leaving Michonne to smirk behind him and roll her eyes. She'd let him get away with that jab. Having cleared things up with Mike and looking at her family sitting around the kitchen table...she felt like the day was going to be a good day.

A/N: Okay, this is the end. I planned on writing more smut at the end but ending it simply like this seems right. I had trouble writing this last chapter because it felt like nothing I was writing was right. It may disappoint some of you after the long hiatus but I plan to work on other fics now.

And the ending with Carl and Michonne indicates that they'll keep putting off the fight until they forget about it. Thanks everyone for reading! And leave me a review with your thoughts. :)


End file.
